Hunger, Longing, Jealousy and Guilt
by myheadsgonenumb
Summary: Set in S4 ep8 'Pangs'. Rather than saving Buffy from the vengeance spirit of the Chumash tribe, Angel finds himself captured by the Initiative. Now he is the one who needs rescuing. But the gang don't even realise he is in Sunnydale... With the return of both Angel and Cordelia to town, the Scoobies find themselves having to deal with past hurts and find a way to move forward.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is an idea I had whilst watching a reaction video to 'The Yoko Factor' - what if Angel got taken by the Initiative when he visited Sunnydale? The trouble is - by 'The Yoko Factor' - the answer would be 'not much', because he would get released in the battle in the very next episode. So I backdated the story to his previous visit - Episode 8 'Pangs.' It was an idea that just hit me (actually it hits me every time Angel shows up in season 4, but this time I'm writing it down), and I'm writing it on the fly. As yet, I have no idea how long it will be, when I will update, or even what will happen. I will be as surprised by events as you are. I'm just seeing where the characters take me.**

 **I imagine all pairings will be the canonical ones, though I don't know how much each character will feature in the story. I have an inkling that there will be some residual Cordelia/ Xander angst (though I don't want to promise anything) and I can't see it working out well for Buffy and Riley, what with him kidnapping her ex and everything. But we shall see what we shall see. I don't know how much BAngel will be a factor, but there almost certainly won't be any CAngel, as that just isn't canonical for this season.**

 **Obviously, i'm not Joss Whedon. I don't own anything (well, i mean, i have a car and some books - but I don't own any of the intellectual property of the Whedonverse).**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Hunger, Longing, Jealousy and Guilt**

 _Chapter 1_

The three commandos stalked their way through the woods. They were dressed in full camo and had paint smeared across their faces to help them blend in with the trees. Of course, if they bumped into a coed, they were wicked conspicuous - but the Thanksgiving break was upon them and most students were back in their halls packing for home. The soldiers were unlikely to bump into any citizens of the campus of the human variety, but blending in with the background made it easy for them to sneak up on demons. And they had good cause to want to be sneaky.

'Man I'm beat,' Graham complained.

'We'll do one more sweep and then cash it in,' his team leader told him. The third member of the squad came to a standstill and scanned the clearing. He looked annoyed. 'I gotta pack tonight.' He glanced at Riley, 'did you manage to get a flight?'

'Wednesday night,' Riley told him. Late night, as well. He would be touching down in Dubuque very early on Thursday morning. His Gramps would pick him up at the airport, and then it would be more than a two hour drive back to the homestead. He'd get there just as his Mom put the turkey in the oven. And then 24 hours later he'd be making the return journey - back to his other family. A very short Thanksgiving, he'd spend almost as much time on the aeroplane as he would with his folks, and Forrest commented as much.

But Riley shook his head. 'Hey, with a hostile on the loose we're lucky to be going home at all.'

'He's neutered,' Forrest argued. 'The implant's working great; he can't hurt a single living thing.'

'As long as he knows about the Initiative, he's a threat,' the team leader countered. He knew it was a pain, patrolling this close to the holiday - looking for one escaped hostile, when they wanted to be packing and leaving for home. But their work mattered. The Initiative was important, and secrecy was paramount. Forrest was skating dangerously close to insubordination. 'We do this the professor's way,' Riley told him.

Forrest began to cough into his hand, 'momma's boy.'

'That's a pretty nasty cough there,' Riley said to him, his tone pleasant with a hint of a warning. 'You might need to spend the weekend in quarantine.'

'Uh - no I'm done coughing.'

Riley clapped him on the shoulder, 'I just don't want anyone getting si…'

The scanner in Graham's hand started going off. 'We've got a cold one,' he told the others.

'Is it the HST?' Riley wanted to know, 'is it Hostile 17?'

'No visual as yet,' Graham began to step through the clearing, following the signal, 'cannot confirm which hostile sub-terrestrial is in the area… but no body temperature, it's looking like a vamp.'

'Man, I hope it's 17,' Forrest said, as the team began to take up positions.

But it wasn't to be. Hostile 17 was short of stature, and slender of build. And most noticeably: peroxide blonde of hair. But, as they reached the edge of the clearing, the vampire that came into view was tall - and dark. His long, black trench coat billowed out behind him.

As the soldiers crept towards him, he seemed to sense them, as he turned to look in their direction. Riley raised his gun and fired. Bolts of electricity streamed out and hit the HST square in the chest. Graham and Forrest added their own fire and, as the volts jolted through him, Angel found himself paralysed and crashed down to the ground.

Cautiously, the three commandos approached the downed vampire. 'This one's a pretty one,' Forrest said, nudging the incapacitated HST with his foot. 'Yeah?' said Riley, 'I'm not looking to date him - tag him.' And the little squad of soldiers bagged up their captured vampire and took him back to base. The night might be a failure, as far as Hostile 17 was concerned, but hopefully Maggie would be proud of them for bringing in another...

* * *

When Angel came to, he found himself locked in a glass cage. There was an identical cage just opposite him, and that housed a Krathlak demon. From what he could see of the corridor, that ran in between, it was blindingly white and sterile looking. Humans in white lab coats, carrying clipboards, walked up and down the corridor, stopping off at the different cages. The vampire seemed to be in some kind of secure containment facility - and a very well funded one at that.

Two soldiers, their guns slung across their backs, marched past - ignoring all the demons, and the scientists that studied them - as they went. Angel remembered - from decades ago - the work of Nazi scientists, experimenting on demons in the hope of building a super army. And he remembered that the American Government had been trying to steal their research - whilst pretending to only be interested in stealing their u-boats.

They hadn't got their hands on the research, back in the 40s - Spike had destroyed it. Nor had they got their hands on any of the vampires they were hoping to experiment on. But, from the looks of things, they hadn't given up. 50 years later, the vision of the Man in Black and his Demon Research Initiative seemed to live on. And they had finally caught Angel in their snare.

He didn't have time for this! Buffy was in danger. Doyle's vision had been vague, non-specific, but there was some threat to the slayer and the PTB wanted him back in Sunnydale to help her out. Nothing else mattered. He slammed his hands against the glass wall of his cage, in frustration. It was electrified, and he was immediately knocked back, as the charge ran through him. He vamped out to counter the pain.

'Well what do we have here?' A middle aged, female scientist appeared at the glass wall, and smirked in at him. She began to take notes on her clipboard. 'A large vampire, an impressive capture. You're the pretty one they brought in.' She quirked her eyebrow at his vampiric features, 'but you look just like every other animal we have in here, to me.'

* * *

Xander lay on his bed groaning - he felt like death. He heard footsteps on the stairs, coming down to the basement, and a little part of him hoped it would turn out to be the grim reaper - come to end his suffering. But it was only Anya. 'Xander, what are you doing?' she asked, when she saw him laid out on the bed. He pushed himself up, and tried to bend down to put his shoes on - but he was stiff and sore and everything ached. 'You're supposed to be digging. I went to watch you digging, and you weren't there doing it.'

'I'm going there now, I'm just - having trouble getting started this morning.'

The former demon put her hand to Xander's head - and then gasped as she felt how warm and clammy it was, 'oh -you're sick! Well, you can't go to work.' She pushed him back down onto the bed, and he thumped back with another groan. 'You're pasty and wet and disgusting,' she said to him, 'they can dig without you.'

'I'm really not that bed.' He was. God, he felt awful. But this construction job was a good one, he didn't want to lose it… not unless he was granted the sweet release of death.

'I inflicted a lot of putrefying diseases back when I was a vengeance demon,' Anya said to him, as she stripped his shirt off him, 'and you look like you're coming down with all of them.'

'OK - I'll stay, but you should go, you might catch it.'

'Then we'll die together - it'll be romantic!' She sounded very happy about the prospect.

'You're a strange kind of girlfriend,' he mumbled. There was a slight pause - and then, 'I'm a girlfriend?'

* * *

Cordelia sighed, as she cleaned out the coffee filters and then recycled the grounds. The coffee would be gross today, but they couldn't afford to use fresh everyday - not if they wanted to keep the lights on. She was getting better at having to economise, but that still didn't mean that she liked it.

She glanced, hopefully, in the direction of the phone - but it remained obstinately silent. Though, it wasn't just paying clients she was hoping to hear from, today. Angel had driven back to Sunnydale last night, as soon as it got dark - and Cordelia wanted to hear from him to check that he was OK. Or, more to the point, to check that he wasn't evil. She sighed again, she really _really_ would never have invited him over to her place if she had realised just how quickly he would be haring off back to Sunnydale… and Buffy.

The front door to the office opened and she looked up, hoping for the briefest moment that it would be a client walking through the doors. But it was only Doyle sidling in - late. 'Hey, princess,' he said, when he saw her stood there, 'I wasn't sure if y' were comin' in today - what with Angel …'

'This is a business and we still need to run it,' she told him, keeping her voice brisk. 'Just because Angel is off fighting the big evil doesn't mean we don't still have bills to pay.' She looked at the Irishman with tentative expectation, 'I don't suppose your arriving here means you had a vision? Of a client? With a Mastercard?'

But her friend just shook his head, 'sorry darlin', no mind wrenching head cracking vision migraines for me today - so far. Which is probably a good thing.' He sank down onto the green sofa and wriggled out of his jacket, 'I mean, if I get a vision of some poor hopeless type being attacked by a giant slime monster - what are we gonna do about it?'

' Nothing - except be afraid and die. Anyway, I don't want slime monster vs damsel in a dark alleyway. They can't pay. I want wealthy heiress whose had her Grandmother's diamond necklace stolen by demon worshipping cult members, and is willing to pay hefty bushel loads of cash for our tracking it down. We could do that by ourselves.'

Doyle smiled, warmly, 'well, I'll get right on that.' But instead of having a vision of a millionaire socialite and her missing diamonds, he instead lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes. Cordelia frowned at his shoes resting on the upholstery, and knocked his feet back down to the floor.

'What did y' do that for?'

'I've already cleaned the office this morning,' she told him, 'I've swept all the dust under the rug, and moved the paperwork around on the desks, and…' she slapped his feet back down, as he raised them up again, 'shook out the cushions on the sofa. If you must lie there like a giant Irish lump - _contributing absolutely nothing_ \- then at least take your shoes off first.'

He slipped his shoes off and put his feet back up. Cordelia nodded in satisfaction and moved away. Doyle had closed his eyes, once more - but once she was at the other side of the room from him, with her back turned, he pried open one eyelid and snuck a peek at her. She looked beautiful. She always did, of course, but right now her long hair was swishing about -trailing slowly across her exposed skin, as she watered the plants.

The Irishman frowned. 'Uh - not that I mind - but why are y' so busy today - cleanin' and such?'

'It needs doing.'

'Yeah - it always needs doin'. You don't normally do it - at least not all in one go.'

'Well - uh - with Angel out of the office, I thought today might be a good day to get on with it. When he isn't clogging up the place, all crabby scowl and morbid gloom.' She put the watering can down, gardening finished, and turned around looking for something else to do. Noting Doyle's jacket sticking out from under him, where he had shrugged it off, she pulled it off the sofa and hung it up by the door. Then she scanned the room for something else to sort out. Doyle raised an eyebrow at her, 'Cordy, what's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong. Why would something be wrong? Can't a girl just want to work in a tidy office, for once?'

He pushed himself upright, and fixed her with a stern gaze. 'I'm not buyin' that. What's up?'

'Nothing!'

'Cordelia!'

'Fine.' She exhaled deeply, and flung herself down on the sofa next to him, giving him a dirty look. 'If you must know - it's Angel.'

'What about him?'

'He's in Sunnydale!'

Doyle nodded slowly, like he didn't quite understand what the problem was. 'Yeah - the higher powers sent me a vision. Sunnydale is where they want him. Why is that making you clean things all of a sudden?'

'He's gone to see Buffy!' she said, as if her problem should be immediately clear to anyone - as if, if Doyle had any sense at all, he too would be manically tidying the office in response to Angel's current whereabouts.

'He's gone to _protect_ Buffy,' Doyle corrected.

Cordelia snorted. 'Protect. See. Bone. It's all one with them. She'll be in danger and he'll save her and then she'll fall into his arms and before you know it, Angelus will be on the rampage again. And once he's killed Buffy and the gang -he's gonna come straight back here _for_ _me!_ And even if he doesn't kill us - once he's evil, we're still out of a job...I'll lose my apartment. I'll be homeless and destitute. I'll have to turn tricks, I'll...'

' _Cordelia!'_ Doyle's voice cut through her ever increasingly desperate monologue. 'I think y' might be gettin' ahead of yourself just a wee bit there, yeah? One disaster at a time… and there hasn't even been a first disaster, yet.'

'Not yet, but it's only a matter of time - Buffy -'

'And Angel split up for a reason,' The Irishman interrupted. 'And those reasons are still there. Sure, it might be difficult to see each other again, sure there might be … temptations. But y' gotta trust that the big man will do what's best. They dated for three years and from what I can work out, slept together _once_. He should get a medal in abstinence. I really don't think there's any danger of him…' he waggled his eyebrows, 'gettin' fleshy with young miss puppy eyes, just 'cause he's gone back for a visit.'

'You're right,' Cordelia nodded, trying to make herself believe what Doyle was saying. 'Angel knows what's at stake here. He can keep Buffy safe and make sure he doesn't get into trouble himself,' she suddenly looked at Doyle, hoping for confirmation, 'right?' she demanded.

'Absolutely. He'll be back before we know it.'

'Right.'

'Right.'

* * *

Angel sat in his cage, slumped against the cold wall. He'd been here for hours. He had no idea what danger Buffy was facing, or even whether she was still safe for now. She had been up in her room in the dorms. He had stood beneath her window - he had seen her, just for a moment, as she had peered out into the night. He had felt that familiar draw, like he was being physically pulled towards her - his whole being yearning for her. But then she had vanished from the window - and the commandos had taken him.

And he had no idea how long he had been here, what time it now was, whether it was day or night, or if Buffy was still alive. He could have failed his mission already, as he languished in this cell. But there was no way out that he could see. Not unless a scientist unlocked the door and he could overpower them. But even then, could he escape a secure facility when he had no idea where the exits were?

At first, he had paced in his cage, repeatedly hitting against the glass wall and getting knocked back by the volts of electricity. He had yelled at the woman scientist who had examined him through the glass. That had got him nowhere. Then he'd gone still, and tried to come up with cunning escape plans - but each one had been more improbable than the last.

And now he had accepted that, for the meantime at least, he was trapped. And if escape was possible, then he would have to wait patiently for an opportunity, and then play it by ear. But he was frustrated - and angry. How could The Powers have sent him to Sunnydale only to let him get kidnapped by a secret military operation? It seemed to him like they should have been paying better attention, have had his back whilst he did their bidding back on the hellmouth. If they wanted him to protect Buffy, then they should have been able to keep the military off his back whilst he did it. Otherwise, why bother sending Doyle the vision? Just to torment Angel? Threaten Buffy's life and then leave him unable to help her? Was this some sick new way of making him atone?

He closed his eyes. Even more than he was frustrated, he was scared. Scared for Buffy. Scared that he would fail her - that he had already failed her. Scared of the unbearable pain that this unknown danger would cause him if it was successful in ending Buffy's life. How could Angel live, knowing that Buffy had died because he hadn't been there to save her? He needed to get out.

There was a sudden beeping sound, which made the vampire open his eyes to look, and a panel in the ceiling slid back. A plastic packet of blood dropped to the floor, right next to where Angel was sitting. He eyed it warily...


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

'Subject is a large, male vampire,' Maggie Walsh spoke into her Dictaphone, as she examined the hostile subterrestrial on the operating table. 'Approximately 6 feet tall and 180 lbs, Caucasian.' She looked up at Dr. Angleman, 'have you got the results of his blood tests yet? What do we know?'

'He's O+'

'So are most people.'

'His DNA, that which I've had chance to run so far, seems to suggest he's of western European descent, very little mixing, if I had to guess I'd say…' he screwed his face up and weighed up the options, 'Irish, most probably.'

Maggie looked at the unconscious vampire, speculatively, 'not mixed with other European DNA?' She asked, 'no traces of Scandinavian or Germanic?'

'No - if I was a gambling man, I'd say this vampire wasn't born or made in the U.S. There's no melting pot in him. Judging from these lab results, I think he's come here from the old world.'

'Didn't you think the same for Hostile 17?' she asked, sharply. Dr. Angleman nodded. 'Yes, the almost 50/50 nature of Celtic and Saxon DNA in number 17 meant I'd place him as a Brit. Undoubtedly.'

'So, we've had one hostile - who managed to escape, no less - who came here from England, and now we've captured an Irish one.' Her expression became searching, 'If these vampires are coming from the old world - is that because they are in fact, old?'

But Angleman just shrugged - you couldn't carbon date a vampire. And, even though they were light years ahead of regular scientists in being able to accurately age human beings from their cells and brain structure, those type of tests simply would not work on the undead. Their immortality meant that cell division was arrested at the point where they were sired. Angleman could tell Walsh how old this vampire had been when he had been turned… but he couldn't tell her how long ago that had happened.

But, even without the data to back her up, Maggie was beginning to form a hypothesis. They had been unable to verify the truth of it scientifically so far, but all the old fairy tales and mythologies - the nonsense stories of slayers and monsters that primitive people told each other - spoke of how vampires became stronger the older they got.

During their time at Sunnydale, the Initiative had -so far - captured and contained about 19 vampires, including number 17. 18 of those had, from her observations of them, appeared to be local - judging on accent - and at most about 3 decades old - judging on fashion. But then there had been 17. Foreign. And not dressed in a way that screamed any particular decade. Just like this one, on the operating table.

Of all the vampires they had caught, only Hostile 17 had got out. He had been the only one strong and clever enough to trick his way out of his cell and then make his escape. And now, even neutered, he stood as a threat to the safety of everything she had worked so hard for. Perhaps this was because he was older - and therefore stronger - than the other blood rats they had trapped in the facility. And now, here was another one - similarly dressed, and similarly foreign. An old vampire, from the old world. And twice the threat because of it. She'd bet her Doctorate on it.

She smiled down at the unconscious vampire, 'well, my boy, whoever you are - we're going to have be doubly careful when it comes to containing you. If you're as old and as strong as I think, who knows what you're like when you're free?'

* * *

'Pretty darn scary,' Buffy said to Giles, as she unpacked her shopping in his cramped little kitchen. 'I thought I was going to have to use slayer moves on this one woman who was completely hoarding the pumpkin pie filling.'

'And at some point, you are going to tell me about the murder?' Giles said to her, drily. The vampire slayer managed to look abashed, 'oh, right,' she said, 'the knife was some sort of Indian artefact.' She scrunched up her face, as she tried to remember the tribe name. 'Chumash,' she recalled, 'that's all we got.' Her watcher nodded his head, slowly, and folded his arms across his chest, as he thought. Chumash Indians were indigenous to the area, he told her - but perhaps the weapon was just a convenient choice?

But Buffy didn't think so - the big ol' scissors had been sitting right there on the desk, handy as anything. This knife had been chosen deliberately. And, more importantly - did Giles even own a turkey pan? She straightened up from the cupboard she had been rooting in and fixed him with a stern glare. He fixed her one straight back. 'Remind me again why we're doing this here - and not at your place?' he asked her.

'Giles!' She exhaled deeply and threw up her hands in exasperation, 'If you want to get by in American society you're gonna have to follow some of our traditions. You're the patriarch. You have to host the festivities, otherwise it's all meaningless!'

'And this is in no way an elaborate scheme to stick me with the clean up?'

'How about that Ceremonial knife, huh?' she immediately changed the subject. 'Pretty juicy bit of clueage don't you think?'

It was Giles' turn to sigh. 'Alright, I'll start looking into the Chumash connection and see if there is any ritual significance to the ear removal.'

'Thank you.' She suddenly stopped and frowned. 'Do you ever get the feeling that something is really wrong?' she asked her watcher, 'like something's happened - something bad - but you have no idea what it is?'

'Um...no?'

She shook her head, as if to dispel the feeling, and shrugged, 'maybe it's a slayer thing - like the prophecy dreams… oh well, there's some stuff I need to pick up. I'll check in later. Keep your hands off the food.'

'Oh, I'll try and restrain myself from eating uncooked potatoes and cranberries.'

Buffy left and, smiling to himself, Giles went over to his bookshelf to see if he had anything that might help him research the Chumash Indians.

* * *

Cordelia sat in her pajamas, in front of the television, with a soda and some popcorn. She was trying to watch 'Sleepless in Seattle' but Phantom Dennis kept switching over to the sports channel. 'Phantom Dennis, stop that!' she said to him, 'I told you already, you can watch the game tomorrow - so can I please just watch my movie tonight? I have enough to be worrying about as it is - I just want 90 minutes of Meg and Tom and a happy ending, is that too much to ask for?'

The channel switched back all by itself. 'Thanks.'

Then the phone began to ring. She snatched it up, 'Angel?'

'Sorry, darlin' it's just me.'

'Hey, Doyle.'

'Hey… so I'm guessin' you've not heard from him yet, either?'

'No - it's been 48 hours. It shouldn't take this long. This is bad.'

There was a pause down the line, as Doyle thought about what she had said. 'Maybe you're right,' he told her. 'Tell y' what - we'll give him another day, and if we've not heard from him by tomorrow evenin' then we'll ...do… somethin'...'

'What if that's too late?' Cordelia asked. Again - Doyle paused for a moment. 'We gotta trust that he knows what he's doin',' he said to her, after he had thought about her words for a while. 'He's the big strappin' hero of the piece - we gotta let him get on with doin' that. It doesn't look too good if he's off rescuin' the damsel and then his two sidekicks turn up to interfere because he forgot to phone 'em. He's probably just got a head full o' Buffy right now, and isn't thinkin' about us worryin'. But three days is long enough. If we've not heard from him by tomorrow then we can panic. Besides,' he sounded like he was shrugging, even down the phone, 'if he's already dead, he isn't gonna get any deader if we leave it another 24 hours.'

'I guess…' she still sounded doubtful.

'It's late, Cordy,' Doyle told her, 'and tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Once the holiday is over - then we can get back to business, but there's nothin' we can do before then.'

'I know it.'

'So - I'm guessin' you won't be in the office tomorrow? Thanksgiving and all?' he asked her. He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice - keep it casual. Now wasn't the time to attempt to ask her out on a date… but he still wanted to know where she would be tomorrow -and if there was a chance he might see her.

'Umm - I guess not. What about you?'

'Not really my holiday,' he told her, still playing it cool. 'Now St. Patrick's day - don't expect to see me in the office for a week. But celebrating a bunch of Puritans from England landing in America and slaughterin' the natives? Nah - not my thing.'

'Oh right - you're not from around here.'

'That I'm not.'

'So… if I came into the office tomorrow - you'd be there?'

At the other end of the phone, Doyle frowned to himself. She was trying too hard to keep her own voice casual. And she had no reason to care what he was up to. But he could hear something else in her tone to - the note of hope - and underneath that there was… loneliness. 'Cordelia? Are you gonna be by yourself tomorrow?' He asked her, he kept his voice soft and kind.

'Well… I mean .. there's Phantom Dennis,' she blustered.

'This is your first Thanksgiving away from home, isn't it?' he said.

She nodded - even though he couldn't see her. 'And I don't have a home to go to back to,' she said, quietly. There was a long pause, then. Cordelia thought about just hanging the phone up - wishing she hadn't said anything. God! Could she sound more pathetic?

Back in his apartment, Doyle was wondering what to say. There was nothing he would like more than to spend the holiday with Cordelia. But, whilst he knew she was definitely warming up to him, she wasn't quite there yet. He didn't want to push, or to take advantage of her whilst she was feeling the weight of being alone. Plus, he hadn't worked up the courage to tell her about his demon half, yet. And absolutely nothing could happen until he had done that.

But on the other hand, he didn't want to leave her all alone, on her first Thanksgiving since she had lost everything - out of some desire to do the noble thing. It wasn't that noble, if he was leaving her isolated and depressed.

'Tell y' what, Cordy,' he said, trying to keep his voice upbeat - but maintaining that casual air that they had both employed throughout the exchange , 'why don't we meet at the office tomorrow - and we can find somethin' to do?'

'I don't imagine we'll get many clients on Thanksgiving,' she said, 'we never have any clients anyway.'

'Well - If it's totally dead, we can hit some bars - it'll be fun.'

'OK - I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

'OK, see y' tomorrow - night Princess,' and he hung the phone up.

* * *

'Buffy! Hey Buffy!' Riley darted across the road, and ended up in front of the slayer, panting for breath. She looked surprised and glanced around her, 'Riley - hey - where'd you come from? I didn't see you at all.'

'Oh just across the street,' he told her - and then - 'and a few blocks down.' He looked sheepish, and Buffy dropped her gaze, smiling down at her feet at his admission. 'Hey Willow,' he said to the other woman, trying to cover the moment of their embarrassed crush.

'Hey,' Willow smiled back, and then immediately took herself off into the coffee shop - leaving Buffy and Riley alone. He looked awkward for a moment, as he tried to think of something to say. 'So… you're not flying home for the holiday tomorrow?' he asked her.

'I'm a Sunnydale girl,' she told him, 'I'm already home - Willow too, not that her mom celebrates..' she was beginning to babble, and cut herself off.

'Great,' he replied, 'so - uh - what are you doing out here, tonight?'

'Just picking up last minute stuff for tomorrow. My mom's gone to my Aunt Arlene's this year - she lives in Illinois - so I'm doing the whole thing myself. I'm doing the cooking for all my friends; turkey, cranberries, the works. It'll be just like it was when I was kid. Only without me building a fort out of my mashed potatoes.'

'Sounds like fun.'

'It will be.' She smiled, then she looked shy, 'um. You know - if you don't have plans... you should come. I'm a great cook … in theory - I've eaten a lot.'

He almost regretted his plane ticket to Dubuque. 'That sounds so great,' he said to her, 'but I'm outta here tonight. I caught a last minute flight back to Iowa.'

'Iowa. That's one of the ones in the middle, right?'

He nodded his head and laughed, telling her about doing Thanksgiving at his Grandparents farm, just outside Huxley. After dinner they would take the dogs down to the river for a walk - his face took on a distant expression as he lost himself in nostalgia, and then he shook his head and brought himself back to Buffy. 'I know what you're thinking, it sounds like I grew up in a Grant Wood painting.'

'Exactly. If I knew who that was.'

'Just a guy who painted stuff that looked like where I grew up.'

There was another momentary awkward pause. 'Well, have fun at the homestead,' Buffy said, realising it was time to wrap this up.

'Always do,' he smiled, 'what's the line? Home's the place that, when you have to go there…'

'They have to take you in,' the slayer finished up.

* * *

After his unexpected encounter with Buffy, Agent Finn barely made it to the debriefing in time. Maggie Walsh gave him a stern look, as he crept into the room, and went to stand beside her. There weren't a whole lot of men there - most of them had already been given leave to return home. But the ones who had pulled the short straw of being on duty over the holiday were all stood to attention - waiting to hear the latest updates and their latest set of orders.

'Let's make this quick,' the professor said to the assembled men, by way of greeting. 'Hostile 17 remains at large, and as such, is a threat to everything we stand for. Since his escape, the capture or killing of the hostile has been our main priority - and it remains so, even over the holiday period. For those of you unfamiliar with the hostile - It is a male vampire of medium height and build, wears a long black leather coat and most noticeably - has bleached blonde hair. All night time patrols - even those out in civilian areas- should be looking for anyone who matches that description.

It has been chipped. The neurological implant means that it cannot cause any physical harm to any living being. However, it is still highly dangerous. Not least, because of the information on our operation that it now carries. But it is also wily, cunning - and still has the strength and speed that most vampires display. Indeed, it seems rather stronger than the average vampire. If any patrol encounters the creature, take it down with all necessary force. Kill it if you must, but we would rather take it alive - we would like to see how our implant is doing.

Last night, Agents Finn, Gates and Miller took down another HST of the vampire variety. Like Hostile 17, this one is European and may well be older and stronger than we are used to. He is safely contained, in our most secure unit, for now. It may be that we are experiencing a wave of foreign vampire incursion into the area. Older vampires are known to join cults and sects and often travel in packs. The energy from the hellmouth could well be a draw to one of these ancient sects… this means we need to display more caution when taking down vampires. If there is a pattern - a link - between Hostile 17, and our new one - Hostile 20, then I want to find it and understand it.

As always, those of you taking on night patrols - if you come across species of demon -especially one you haven't seen before - try to bring it in alive. However, any dead HSTs are still wanted for dissection and study. Any questions?'

She was met by absolute silence. 'Very good - dismissed.'

* * *

Angel groaned, as he came to again. His head hurt. He groaned even louder, when the last mist of unconsciousness slipped away, and he realised he had been knocked out - again. And now - he had no idea of how long he had been out, or even what day it was. It must have been the blood, he thought - they must have drugged it. He should have known…

He looked around, and realised he was in a different place to where he had been before. He was still in a sterile white cube, with a glass front - but he could no longer see the corridor, and the other cages. He was in isolation.

Beyond the glass wall was all dark. But Angel was a predator - a creature of the night - and he was able to peer through the gloom and get a clear enough understanding of his surroundings. There was what looked like a viewing area, just outside his cell, probably for the scientists to stand in and take notes. They probably kept the area dark - whilst his own cage was harshly, glaringly lit - so they could try and observe him without him knowing they were there. That thought made him smile, grimly. This might be a decades old secret military operation designed to study the supernatural - but they clearly didn't understand the first thing about vampires.

As if a human could stand on just the other side of that glass and be undetectable to the undead. He would be able to sense them - to smell them, to feel their warmth - even through the glass. He would be able to hear the murmur of their voices, no matter how low they kept them, and the scratching of their pens. Vampires had excellent hearing. And of course - he would be able to see them. Not understanding that vampires could see in the dark seemed a ludicrously childish mistake for the Government Agency to have made. It told Angel that, for all their hi-tech weaponry and state of the art facilities, they were in way over their heads. Children playing a game they did not understand.

Beyond the darkened viewing area was one, very solid looking, door. The kind of door that looked like it was electronically locked. There was a tiny little window in the top half of the door - and through that tiny gap, Angel could see out into the vast inspection pit. Although he didn't understand fully what he was seeing, he could make out the scientists moving around in front of the door, carrying out their grisly work - chopping up demon parts.

He slammed his fists against the glass wall. This one, too, was electrified - and he fell back. It was not only Buffy in danger, he realised now - he had found himself in a very dangerous place… and there was no one to realise he was missing...


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

After his long flight, and two hour drive in his Gramp's farm truck, Riley was relieved to finally arrive at the family farm. Just as he had expected, his mom was in the kitchen - readying the turkey for the oven. His Gramma was mixing the pumpkin pie filling, and his sister was sat at the kitchen table, shelling peas.

'Is that my boy home?' a shout came through from the den - his dad was watching the pre-game commentary and, after kissing his mom on the cheek by way of greeting, he went on through to his father. 'Yes, sir,' he said. Finn snr grinned at him, 'well - how's the military treating you, boy?'

His family didn't know about his secret mission, or that he worked for a government agency now, they believed he was still training recruits at Fort Irwin. 'It's going real good,' he said.

'Yeah - you don't get bored putting rookies and pantywastes through their paces?' Riley's father had seen action in Vietnam, and he was a little disappointed that his own son had yet to be deployed overseas.

'They keep me on my toes,' Riley smiled.

'Man's not a soldier 'til he's seen real action. 'Til he's stared down the gun barrel of the enemy and told death to kiss his ass.'

'No, sir,' Agent Finn agreed - thinking of all the vampires and demons he had taken on headlong.

'Oh, leave him alone, Bertram,' Mrs. Finn had finished putting the turkey in the oven and come on into the den to see her son. She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, and then pulled back from him to better scrutinise him. 'Are you eating enough?' she asked.

'Sure am, mom.'

'And they're not working you too hard?'

'They work me pretty hard - but I love it.'

'When I was the boy's age I was armpit deep in the swamps of the Mekong - gun raised above my head to keep it dry, the Viet Kong firing from all sides, trekking for miles through hostile jungles - saw my best friend's face get blown clean off. _That_ was working hard.'

But Mrs Finn just rolled her eyes and shook her head - she'd heard it all before, many times, over the intervening decades. 'So - have you met any nice girls?' she asked her son, 'any chance of me becoming a grandmother?'

'Mom!' Riley laughed in protest.

'Well - I can live in hope.'

'Actually,' he began to smile, 'there is one girl I've met that I like - Buffy…'

'What kinda hell name is 'Buffy'?' Bertram Finn interrupted.

'Is she episcopalian?' his wife asked.

'It's never come up...' Riley admitted. He saw the disapproving looks his parents gave each other. 'She aint a _catholic_?' his father sounded horrified at the very thought.

'I'm really not sure if she's anything,' Riley admitted, 'we haven't discussed church… she's studying psychology…' Bertram snorted to show his disapproval, 'and she's really nice,' Riley tried to finish up, 'just a nice, ordinary, down to earth kind of girl.'

* * *

'So by the time I got to Father Gabriel - he was hanging from a tree with his throat cut… pretty everyday scene in my life,' Buffy told Giles, as she checked the settings on his oven. Giles paused from peeling the vegetables to frown. 'I hate to ask - but the wound…'

'Big jagged thing,' the slayer interrupted, 'yes - I did think to look, I've been doing this sort of thing for three years now. If I had to guess - I'd say the Chumash knife had struck again.'

'Well - this is a stroke of bad luck,' Giles said, putting the vegetables down, in order to clean his glasses. 'I thought - when I discovered that there was an expert on mission times living so close by - that we might get some answers… But obviously, I found out about him too late.'

'Seems to me that someone might be trying to stop us from getting answers,' Buffy replied, 'think about it - the first person killed is the head of the anthropology department, and the next victim is the local history expert whose family dates back to mission times… all I'm saying is, this guy - whoever he is - isn't bothered about covering his tracks - but he doesn't want us getting the skinny on him, that's for sure… those need to go through the ricer.'

'What?'

'The potatoes - we need to boil them and put them through the ricer.'

'Well, I don't think I have a ricer.'

Buffy threw up her hands in horror and frustration, 'You don't have a ricer? What do you mean? How can someone not have a ricer?'

'Do you have one at home?'

She looked confused. 'I don't know - what's a ricer?'

'We'll mash them with forks,' Giles told her, 'much like the pilgrims must have.'

There was a knock on the door. Buffy went to open it - and found Willow on the other side, laden with books. 'Peas?' the slayer asked her, the witch took a packet of peas off the top of her stack of books and handed them to her friend - before walking into the apartment and setting her load down. Buffy looked at the packet in her hand, 'these are frozen.'

'What's all that?' Giles nodded at Willow's hefty reading materials.

'Atrocities,' she replied - her voice outraged, 'I got the full poop on the Chumash Indians and our fabulous buried mission.'

'You were going to get fresh ones,' Buffy accused

'Atrocities?'

'Peas. they come in little pods - you were going to shell them.'

'I didn't have time,' Willow explained, 'i was too busy reading about the Chumash war.'

This confused Giles - the Chumash had been a peaceful tribe. Willow nodded - oh they had been peaceful alright, they had been fluffy indigenous kittens - until the colonials had come along.

'These are gonna be mushy,' Buffy was still stuck on the peas.

'They won't be mushy.'

'I like mushy peas,' Giles tried to be helpful. But Buffy wasn't impressed. His people were the reason they had had to have pilgrims in the first place. She finally pulled her head out of her dinner and tried to return to her slaying duties - asking what had become of the Chumash.

The answer was grim. They had been victims of imprisonment and forced labour. They had been herded like animals into the mission, full of bad European diseases. If they rebelled then they were hanged. A group had been accused of stealing cattle and they had been killed - men, women, and children - and as proof they were dead, their killers cut off their ears.

'So - whatever has been released is recreating the wrongs done to the Chumash - maybe a vengeance spirit or entity… we'll have to stop them,' Giles surmised.

'But - after dinner right?' Buffy checked.

* * *

Angel sat in his cell. He was starving. No one had entered his hallway, come anywhere near him, in hours. It seemed like half the staff were missing, which made the vampire suspect that it must now be Thursday - Thanksgiving. He'd been imprisoned for nearly 48 hours, and had no idea if Buffy was alive or…

He wondered how long it would take for Doyle and Cordy to realise something was wrong, and raise the alarm. Even if they got to him before this secret government agency could do… whatever they planned to do with him, then it still might be too late for Buffy. And that was what really mattered. Besides, he frowned as he thought, he didn't want Doyle to have to come to his rescue. This operation were capturing and experimenting on all kinds of demons, and the vampire did not want his little half breed friend anywhere near them. He very much doubted that Doyle's human side would be enough to keep him safe - if anything, the Demon Research Initiative would probably find human-demon hybrids fascinating, and be even more eager to experiment on one of those than they would a vampire.

He leaned his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes. How could he have let this happen? His stomach began to rumble, and then the beeping noise began - and the panel in the ceiling slid back. The packet of plasma fell down to the ground beside him. It was drugged - he knew it was drugged. He knew if he drank it, then he'd be knocked out for god knows how long and they would do god knows what to him. But he was so hungry…

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle had gone into the centre of Hollywood - as there was nothing to do at the office. The Starbucks at the Highland centre had been open - you could always count on Starbucks to prioritise profit over holidays - and they had bought mochachinos, and now stood outside the Chinese theatre, looking at the hand prints. Even though it was Thanksgiving, the place was still heaving with tourists - most of them gathered around Marilyn Monroe's prints.

'When my inevitable stardom takes effect - these people are gonna be lining up to stick their sweaty paws into my hand prints,' Cordelia said - watching the tourists, disdainfully, through her sunglasses.

Doyle chuckled, 'I don't doubt that for a moment, Princess,' he said to her. 'But it'll be lonesome in the office without y', yeah?'

'Well - that might not be a problem, if Angel has boinked Buffy and is evil again.'

'Hey - I thought we weren't gonna say the A word until this evenin' … when we're gonna start panicking.'

'Sorry - you wanna go in and see a movie? It's air conditioned.'

'Nah - it's way too nice a day to sit in the dark, we do that enough when… you know who is around… and I don't mean Lord Voldemort.'

'Who?'

'Nothin' - let's go somewhere outside - Griffith park? It's not far.'

She agreed, and they walked down the street, making their way to the bus that would drop them directly outside the observatory. Cordelia's eyes scanned every famous name printed on the stars on the Hollywood Walk. But she had stopped thinking about her acting career and imminent success… instead she was starting to think about the man walking beside her in companionable silence.

It was only very recently that she had begun to admit that maybe _maybe_ there was the slightest hint of a possibility that she _might_ enjoy spending more time with him on a … more intimate basis. Not a date. No - definitely not a date; he was short, he was poor, he was so badly dressed - but still… time with Doyle would be ...nice.

And OK - if she was being truly, strictly honest with herself… she'd maybe felt this way a while. They had spent that evening together the night Oz came to town… though Doyle's drinking had been a problem, and she'd had a pretty good day that day they'd gone apartment hunting. She had to admit - she liked the way he looked at her, and she was shallow, it made her feel good. And sometimes it was lonely in the big city by herself, far from home - no friends, no money, her old life in tatters. The way Doyle looked at her made her happy, made her feel better. It had been that way since… since she'd met him.

But she didn't want to admit any of this - not at first. He didn't know it - but Doyle was fighting the memory of Xander Harris with every step he took towards Cordelia. Xander Harris - who, just like Doyle, hadn't been cool, or rich, or well dressed. But, just like Doyle, had been funny, and kind and courageous… until the day he had ripped Cordelia's heart out and shredded it to pieces, leaving her all alone. Doyle was so like Xander in so many ways… but Cordy wasn't being fair holding Xander's infidelity against the other man. Doyle wasn't Xander. He might be completely different to … _date_ … there she'd said it.

But then, just as she was coming to terms with the fact that she wanted to get to know her little Irish co-worker better, his ex wife had turned up out of nowhere. Doyle was married! Or he had been. And he'd used to be a teacher, and he'd worked at homeless shelters and… he had been nothing like the funny, down on his luck, drunk that she had come to know and revile. So - what else was he hiding?

She gave him a quick sideways glance. He caught her looking, and smiled - and she glanced away quickly. 'Somethin' botherin' y' princess?' he asked.

'No.'

'You've just gone awful quiet is all.'

'I was just thinking … I guess Thanksgiving used to be a busy day for you? I know you don't celebrate, yourself, but… I bet the shelters were busy that day.'

'Uh - yeah,' he looked surprised - and she realised he didn't know she had learned about this part of his life. 'I hated Thanksgiving day. The place was heavin' and it was packed with dogooder types that came down once a year to help out - pat themselves on the back 'cause they spent Thanksgiving with the homeless. Then they'd go home - and we'd hear nothin' from 'em for another year. And the trouble with one off volunteers is they got no idea what they're doin'. They're more trouble than they're worth.'

'Oh - so I guess you didn't enjoy it much.'

'Not the holidays - no. The rest of the time it was great… I mean. Not great people are homeless but .. y'know what I mean. I liked helpin' people.'

'So why did you stop?'

He looked awkward for a moment, trying to think about an answer that didn't reveal too much of the truth. 'I guess after my marriage broke down I … just wasn't in a good place, anymore.'

'Uhuh. So - why did your marriage break down?'

He laughed out loud at that. 'Jeez. Cordelia! You don't shy away from the tough questions do y'?'

'I just … I didn't … I mean…'

'No it's OK,' he shrugged, 'we were too young to get married. We… changed... as people, and we just weren't suited to each other anymore. If it wasn't for my extreme Catholic upbringing we could have just lived together and then gone our separate ways. No biggie. It was my fear of Father Mullaney that drove us down the aisle. Without that, Harri would never have had to come back into my life.'

'Did you cheat on her?'

'Cordelia!' he sounded scandalised, 'I would never do that!'

Definitely nothing like Xander Harris then …

* * *

There was another knock on the door. Giles opened it this time, and found Xander and Anya on his doorstep. Anya seemed to be holding her boyfriend up - and he looked terrible; sweaty and pasty and green about the gills. 'Happy Thanksgiving,' he croaked.

'Xander you look like death!' Giles said.

'Are you OK?' Willow was equally concerned.

'You didn't bring rolls?' The slayer knew where her priorities lay.

The couple staggered into the room, and Xander lay on the couch. Anya sat beside him and placed a cold cloth on his head, making soothing noises. He had been to the doctor, he told his friends, but they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He had a lot of symptoms that just didn't connect.

'I think they might connect,' Buffy frowned, stirring her pie mixture. 'Willow - didn't you say the Indians in the mission became infected with a whole load of diseases?'

'Yeah,' the witch began to flip through one of her books, 'this is a better account of it. It lists all the various….'

'Various?' Xander interrupted, trying to push himself upwards off the couch to better see Willow. Anya pushed him back down and reapplied the cloth to his brow.

'Well, they did suffer from malaria, smallpox...'

'I was gonna say smallpox!' Anya sounded delighted with her diagnosing abilities.

'..syphilis, but you know…' Willow was mumbling now. But Xander caught her words nevertheless. 'Syphilis!'

'It will make you blind and insane,' Anya told him, 'but it won't kill you… the smallpox will.'

'I don't get it,' Buffy said, still mixing, 'whatever is causing this so far has gone after experts. But Xander's completely ignorant… no offence Xand. Why him?'

But Giles, cleaning his glasses as he spoke, had the beginnings of a theory. Whatever this spirit - this creature - was, it had been trapped in the mission ever since it had been lost in the earthquake. When Xander fell through the earth, rediscovering the mission, he awoke the entity that dwelt there - and it took the young man for one of his oppressors. Since escaping his prison, the spirit had then gone on to kill those he felt was most culpable - the people who knew the truth about the Chumash - and didn't bring it to light.

'So he just wakes up and attacks the first person he sees?' Xander asked, in sickly outrage, 'that's no fair!'

'He's just doing what was done to him,' Willow said, thin lipped.

'I didn't give him syphilis!'

'What? You've never woken up cranky?'

'So Buffy, it is for to be slaying sometime soon?' Xander wanted to know. But Willow interrupted, she didn't feel that they should be slaying this spirit. They ought to be helping him redress his wrongs - bring the atrocities to light.

Giles pointed out that, as the history books were full of them, the atrocities already were in the light. And how else could they help him? Give back the land? It wasn't exactly theirs to give - besides, this spirit had killed innocent people; violently, brutally. Buffy's duty was clear.

'And the representative for syphilis votes 'yea'!' Xander added, weakly raising his hand. Willow began to argue back, heatedly. Giles began to talk over her. Buffy watched them, stirring her pie mixture the whole time. 'This no good!' she cried out, as the bickering reached a crescendo. Everyone stopped to look at her, looking a little shamefaced. 'It needs more condensed milk.' She headed into the kitchen, but was interrupted by another knock at the door. Placing the mixing bowl on the counter, she went to open it. At first, it seemed like no one was there - and then…

'Help me!' Spike, covered by a blanket, made a run for the door. Buffy punched him in the face and he rolled out into the sunlight. 'Ow!' he was indignant, and scrambled back into the shadows, 'what part of 'help me' didn't you understand?'

'The part where I help you.' Giles came up behind her and handed her a stake. Spike made another run at the door, but bounced of the invisible barrier that barred his entrance. Huddled in his blanket, and cringing away from the sunlight - he told the slayer his story - how he had been captured by the soldiers and they had put a chip in his head, meaning he couldn't bite, he couldn't even hit people.

Buffy was unimpressed. 'So you haven't murdered anybody lately? Let's be best pals!'

'I've got information!' the vampire realised, 'on those soldier boys you were fighting. Got the inside scoop.' The slayer and her watcher looked at each other, and then with a sigh of resignation, Giles invited Spike inside. He was immediately tied up, and ignored, and the gang went back to discussing their problem.

* * *

The blood just sat next to him, glistening a bright, ruby, red inside it's plastic container. He shouldn't. He mustn't. But he was _so_ hungry. He had left it alone for hours, he was hours hungrier than he had been when it fell beside him. It would start to turn soon - it was now or never. Regretting his decision - even as he made it - Angel grabbed the packet of blood and bit down into it, feeling the viscous fluid slide down his throat and fill his stomach. There was a moment's relief… but then his vision began to blur, and everything went black ...

* * *

'OK, so vengeful spirit guy creature thing has killed off the experts,' Buffy said, 'what next - who will he go for next?'

'How much butter do you need in this?' asked Anya, who had taken over the cooking whilst Buffy tied up Spike.

'Half a stick of butter and a quarter cup of brandy,' the slayer told her, 'you do have brandy?' she checked with Giles.

'I wouldn't say no to a brandy,' Spike said hopefully, 'just a little brandy.'

'Perhaps authority figures?' mused Giles in response to Buffy's previous questions, 'the people he perceives as having the power?'

'So… we warn local government?' Buffy frowned, 'I don't really get along with the mayor's office, they might not listen to me. Will? Is there anything in your books about what this is - or how to kill it?'

'I'm not helping you kill it!' Willow protested.

'What choice do we have?'

'Buffy, this isn't a western. We're not at fort … Giles, with the cavalry coming to save us!'

'You know I feel bad about this,' Buffy told her, 'it's eating me up … a quarter cup of brandy and let it simmer,' she broke herself off to give instructions to Anya, and then picked up her discussion with the witch. 'Yes the Chumash were wronged, and I, personally, would be ready to apologise but…'

'Oh someone put a stake in me.' Spike's sardonic voice cut through the conversation. And they all turned to look at him. 'I can't take all this nambypamby boohooing about the bloody Indians. You won. You took their land and you massacred them. It's what conquering nations do. It's what Caesar did. You don't hear him saying 'I came, I saw, I conquered, _I felt really bad about it_.'

'If we could just talk to him…' Willow sounded uncomfortable.

'You exterminated his race!' Spike said impatiently, 'what could you possibly say that would make him feel better? You had better weapons, and you took their land and you _annihilated_ them. That's the entire history of the world. It's kill or be killed here, take your bloody pick.'

'We don't want to kill anybody!' the witch protested.

'I just want to have Thanksgiving…' Buffy said. Spike began to chuckle - but was cut off when an arrow flew threw the window and embedded itself in the table decorations. The gang all whirled around to look through the windows, they were surrounded by angry warrior spirits of the Chumash tribe.

* * *

'That was delicious, mom,' Riley pushed his chair back from the table and put his napkin down, 'you outdid yourself - as always.'

She beamed in response to his praise. 'What about some pie for afters? There's still time before you need to leave for your flight back, isn't there?'

'Yeah - I still got time for pie and a walk by the river. My flight's not 'til eleven.'

'Don't see how you don't get bored, there,' his father said, 'no fighting, no enemy. Tin soldiers being put through their paces.'

'Oh you know me, sir, I like the quiet.' If only his father knew what he was really up to. 'No, sir, nothing much ever happens in Sun… Fort Irwin - and that's the way I like it.'

* * *

'Why are they here?' squealed Willow, as she dove under the table for cover. 'Why have they picked on us?' Anya had sunk down behind the counter in the kitchen, Xander had rolled himself off the sofa, and Buffy and Giles joined Willow under the table. Arrows rained down on them. Spike sat, alone, still tied to his chair. An arrow flew through the window and impaled him in his chest. He looked down at it, and then up at the warrior who had fired it, 'Hey!' he yelled, 'watch the heart!'

'We need a plan,' Giles hissed.

'Where's your weapons chest?' Buffy asked. Giles pointed to it and she scurried over, keeping low - but nevertheless she was shot in the arm. 'Buffy!' gasped Willow. But the slayer just pulled the arrow out, grabbed a couple of crossbows, and scurried back to the table.

Spike now had arrows sticking out all over his torso - but miraculously none of them had hit his heart. 'Remember that conquering nations bit I said?' he shouted, 'forget it, apologise.' No one did. 'Oh right - I'll do it myself.' He craned his neck so he could see out of the window, 'sorry! Sorry about that, chief!' But the Chumash warrior ignored him and simply fired another arrow in.

Realising that their arrows were doing no good - as the gang just stayed hidden - the warriors moved in, breaking through the doors and windows to come into the apartment. Buffy broke cover and shot at the nearest warrior. She hit him, clean in the chest, but he simply pulled the arrow out. She punched him in the face. 'Giles, these guys don't die!'

'Bit. Busy. At. The moment.' the watcher gasped out, as he was throttled by another warrior. Willow had been dragged out from under the table, and was struggling with her captor. Anya rushed out from the kitchen and smashed a vase over the spirit's head, freeing Willow. Then the two women began to hit him in turn. 'Why won't you die?' screamed the witch, beating the warrior with a chair.

Xander was crawling across the room, trying to stay out of the way of the warriors, as he tried to get to Anya.

'I don't get it,' Buffy kicked the spirit away from herself, but he just came back for more. 'Why are they here? we wanted to help them.'

'They're warriors,' gargled Giles, still being strangled, 'for them authority means the strongest fighter. They mean to kill you, Buffy, before they kill everyone else.'

'Well that doesn't seem fair!' she punched the spirit, again, and snatched his knife from him. She slashed at him with it, and he jumped away, but not before she scratched his arm. Blood ran down - and realisation dawned on the slayer. 'Your own knife can kill you.'

He stared at her - and then morphed into a gigantic bear, which roared his anger at her. 'A bear!' Spike yelled, 'you made a bear!'

'I didn't meant to!'

'Undo it! undo it!'

Xander had reached the kitchen counter by now and, seeing Buffy facing off against a grisly, he hauled himself upright and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. 'Hey Gentle Ben,' he yelled and threw the apple, 'that's for giving me syphilis!' He threw a pear. The bear turned round, distracted, and Buffy lunged forward, driving the Chumash knife deep into his side. The bear roared out, shuddered, morphed back into a man -and then melted away. The other warriors also vanished into nothingness.

The gang all stared at each other, 'well, I guess we won,' Buffy said. The oven timer went off, 'and that's the turkey ready.'

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle entered the office. It was late now - and dark. They had waited - at a bar, of course - until it was long enough after sundown that Angel could have reached home. 'Angel?' Cordelia called, 'are you here?' There was no reply.

'Maybe he went straight to bed?' Doyle suggested

'You're right - go check.'

'Me? Why me?'

Together, they went down the stairs and peered into the vampire's apartment. 'Angel?' Cordelia called again, 'are you back? Are you evil?' But there was no reply. The place was empty.

'Well - he might just not be back yet - we can wait a bit longer,' Doyle said. Cordelia nodded, and they returned to the office, to sit on the green couch and wait for the vampire to come home.

But the minutes turned into hours - and slowly, the first fringes of light began to creep across the window pane. 'Well, that's it,' Cordelia sighed, looking at the dawn, 'he isn't coming home today.'

'Yesterday,' Doyle corrected. 'It's Friday now… maybe we should call Buffy.'

'She doesn't live at home anymore - I don't have her number.'

'Well - so what do we do?'

Cordelia bit her lip. There was one phone number she still knew off by heart, there was only one scooby that she still knew how to contact. She reached out and began to dial, after a few rings she heard it get picked up at the other end. 'Hello?' the voice was gruff, annoyed at being woken so early. 'Hey, Mr. Harris - could I speak to Xander please?' She heard the man yell across the house to his son - that some chippie was on the phone for him. Then came the sound of the extension picking up, 'Anya?'

'Hey Xander, no … it's Cordelia.'


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

Xander put the phone down. He didn't get it. _Angel_ was in _Sunnydale_? _Angel_ had come to _Sunnydale_ to see _Buffy_ … and she had completely failed to mention that because…? Well, he knew the answer to that only too well. Buffy had form for hiding Angel from her friends when it suited her. She would have her boytoy snugglevampire holed up somewhere where they could have quality time together, until the next time he went evil and started killing everybody. What was it with Buffy? Why couldn't she see Angel for what he was?

This probably wasn't even the first time it had happened, Xander reflected. Cro Magnon had probably been popping back to SunnyD ever since he left. Sure - it made sense - make a big fuss of leaving, get Buffy's friends and family off his back and then boom - see the slayer on the quiet. No one would be any the wiser. And Buffy was putting people in danger by going along with this plan. She was so self involved and wrapped up in her secret life with Angel that she was actively putting the people she loved at risk. Last time he had lost his soul, the vampire had tried to have the whole world sucked into hell. Buffy was actually jeopardising the safety of the entire world! Man!

What would Giles say? What would Willow say? Xander stopped his pacing. Did Willow already know? They were off, living in dorms together, doing the whole college thing. Had Buffy shared her secret with the witch? Were they both laughing at their cleverness of keeping Xander in the dark? ' _Oh he doesn't have to know, he wouldn't understand, he didn't go to college.'_ Man! He could just hear them now.

There was a knock at the basement door, and Anya came in. 'Xander you're supposed to be digging,' she said to him, 'you don't have syphilis anymore - you're supposed to be digging. I want to watch you dig.'

'There's no time,' Xander said, pulling on his pants and a shirt, 'we have an emergency.' He grabbed a stake.

* * *

Cordelia put the phone down, she was frowning. Doyle was leaning over her; his arms resting against the desk, as he waited, expectantly. 'So? What'd he say?' the Irishman asked.

'He hasn't seen him. Buffy hasn't mentioned him.'

'OK - that can't be good.'

'No it really can't.'

Doyle sighed, and moved away from the desk, instead, sinking onto the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, 'well - did this … Xander was it? Did he say if they'd been in any trouble that Angel mighta helped out in?'

'It's Sunnydale, Doyle - they're always in trouble.'

'Well, yeah … but I had a mind numbin' head crackin' vision migraine about this trouble. What happened?'

'He said they got attacked by some vengeance spirits from an Indian tribe.'

'Festive.'

'Yeah - right… but they all survived… and with no sign of Angel. Unless… Xander thinks Buffy might be hiding him. That they're together somewhere.'

Doyle frowned. 'That isn't like Angel.'

'When he returned from hell - Buffy hid him from us for months.'

'But this is different,' the half demon argued, 'he went there specifically to protect her. He would have been there _protectin'_ her unless…'

'Unless something got in his way,' Cordelia finished. She wrinkled her nose up, 'you know - Xander's always had this .. thing… about Angel. He never liked him. I'm not sure we should just take his word on this.'

'How come he doesn't like Angel?'

'Beats me,' she shrugged. But she did know. She knew all too well. Xander had been, was, and probably always would be jealous of Angel. Jealous that Buffy loved Angel … and not him. God! And she - Cordelia Chase, Cordelia Freaking Chase - had only gone and fallen in love with a man who was in love with another woman. A woman who didn't know how to moisturise, at that. Well, if she was going to be that stupid then she deserved to have her heart broken… though it wasn't actually Buffy that Xander had cheated with. But still, there was no way on this earth that she was going to admit to Doyle, of all people, that she, Cordelia, had agreed to be the girlfriend of someone who only ever saw her as second best. So she was just going to have to gloss over that complicated part of ancient history. Not that it mattered now anyway, what mattered was that Angel was missing - he probably wasn't with Buffy - but either way, they needed to find him and bring him back.

'So what do we do now?' Doyle asked her. She reached out and picked up the phone, again. He looked at her enquiringly, but she held out a finger to shut him up. 'Hello?' she said into the receiver, 'yeah, I'd like to book two tickets for the next train to Sunnydale. Uhuh - what time is that? ...Thanks.' she hung up again. 'We go find him,' she told her friend, 'train's at 2.'

She stood up and wriggled into her jacket and picked up her purse. 'Y' goin' right now?' Doyle asked her, 'we've still got time.'

'I'm going to shower and change,' she told him, 'no way am I turning up back home wearing clothes I've been wearing for the past 24 hours… my hair will be flat and all my makeup will have worn off.'

'Y' look beautiful.'

She rolled her eyes, 'yeah, right,' but she had to bite her lip to hide her smile. She didn't want Doyle seeing how pleased she was by his words. 'You know,' she said to him, 'if you love me, at all - you'll shower and change too. I don't wanna return to the scene of my former glory with a badly dressed, crumpled, _short_ , Irishman in tow.'

'Y'know there's not much I can do about my height,' he smiled at her, 'not unless y' want me to wear high heels. And I'm tellin' y', darlin' - that's just not my sty…'

He was cut off mid sentence but the crashing sound of glass shattering, in the next room. Through the internal window, they saw a giant, green, ninja turtle demon monster come bursting in from outside - roaring and swinging a sword.

'That would be our cue to run!' Cordelia screamed, and she and Doyle raced out of the office and into the street - leaving the mohra demon behind...

* * *

'Do you ever get the feeling that you're meant to be somewhere else?' Buffy asked Willow. The pair of them were sat out on the college lawn, under a tree, studying. 'You know that feeling that something completely crucial is supposed to be happening - but it isn't because you're not there?'

'Uhhh-' the witch began to giggle, 'can't say I do, Buff, no.'

'Well - I have that feeling _right now_ ,' Buffy told her. 'I've been having … I dunno… all sorts of weird feelings all week. On Tuesday I had this sense that…' she broke off and shrugged a little, trying to find the words that would articulate her feeling, 'I don't know… a yearning, maybe? That something was out there and I was being drawn to it. Then the other day I just had this sense that something really bad had happened - like a disaster, you know? And now…' she trailed off again.

'What - now?'

'It's like…' the slayer sighed, 'it's like I'm supposed to be having the best day of my life... and I'm missing it.'

'Harsh,' Willow said, 'I don't know, Buffy - they're some pretty heavy feelings you're having there … is it, like, a _slayer_ thing?'

'I don't know… I don't see how it can be. But some of these feelings just seem so… familiar.'

'Buffy - hey Buffy!' Their conversation was interrupted by Riley coming into the quad and spotting the girls. He waved at her, enthusiastically, and then gambolled over the lawn to join her.

'Hey, Riley,' she said, 'you're back from Iowa quick.'

'Yeah - flying visit. Professor Walsh has some work that she wants me to do - vital stuff.'

'Well, that's some full service you're doing for her. What did your mom have to say about your 24 hour stopover?'

'Wasn't even 24 hours,' Riley grinned, 'but she gets how it is - when you gotta work you gotta work.'

'I hear that,' the slayer agreed.

'So how was you're Thanksgiving?' he asked, 'did everything go according to plan - no disasters in the kitchen?'

Buffy and Willow glanced at each other - and exchanged a secret smile. 'It was more or less what we expected,' Buffy told him, 'it went the way all the best Buffy bashes go.'

'You can say that again,' Willow agreed.

'That's nice,' Riley smiled, 'so - uh - you got any plans tonight?'

Buffy and Willow looked at each other again, 'I was thinking of getting a little studying done whilst the dorms were still quiet,' the slayer told him.

'You were?' he looked crestfallen, 'oh - because I was thinking - whilst other parts of the campus are still quiet…' but he was cut off by a sudden beeping. He took a pager out of his pocket and looked at it, 'shoot - that's the professor - I gotta go.'

'She sure keeps you on your toes.'

'She does at that - well, Buffy, Willow - I'll see you around.' He smiled his broad, friendly grin at them again, gave another wave and headed off. The two women watched him leave. 'So… you gonna take him up on that offer to do something sometime?' Willow asked.

'He didn't offer…'

'Pfft - he was going to - he likes you Buffy. Do you like him back?'

Buffy looked uncertain, 'I don't know … I guess… but…' she wriggled again as if trying to shrug off a feeling of unease, 'I just keep having this feeling that something else … something better is meant to be happening… right this minute.'

'Bummer, well I gotta go.'

'You're bailing on me?' Buffy sounded surprised, 'but you're supposed to be my study buddy!'

Willow just smiled, as she collected up her books, 'I'll study with you later - there's just somewhere I have to be right now.' Like Riley, she waved at the slayer and headed off. Buffy pouted to herself. 'There's somewhere _I'm_ meant to be right now,' she muttered, 'I just don't know where it is.'

* * *

Xander arrived at the mansion on Crawford street, Anya trailed behind him - grumbling the whole way. 'So what if Buffy and Angel have hooked up in secret?' she asked him, 'what business is it of yours if they wanna play secret sexcapades in the creepy old mansion?'

'You don't get it - An,' Xander replied, 'you weren't here last time he went nuts. Buffy has no right to be putting us all in danger this way.'

'Right - but what are you gonna do about it?' She followed him across the courtyard garden, and through the imposing front doors.

'It's day time - he's weak - I'm gonna make him see reason, and if he won't - then I'll just let our friend good old Mr. Sunshine take care of him.' He walked up to the nearest window and pulled back the heavy drapes. Sunlight flooded into the living area. Anya looked around, her face crinkled. 'I don't know, Xander… this place doesn't feel like anybody has been here recently.'

'Oh - he's here,' Xander told her. 'Cordy said he'd come back to Sunnydale - where else could he be?'

He entered into the bedroom and again flung back the curtains, allowing the daylight to come streaming in. But once again, the room was devoid of vampires.

Anya sighed. 'He isn't here, Xander,' she said, 'either we give this up - or we look somewhere else… but this is just embarrassing.'

* * *

'So what do we do once we get to Sunnydale?' Doyle asked, 'where do we go first?' The two of them had caught the train and were now barrelling North through the Californian countryside. Cordelia stared out of the window and watched as little communities of clapboard buildings and orange groves flashed past. 'I guess we go to Giles, first,' she said, tearing herself away from the view, and turning to look at the man beside her, instead.

He had showered and changed, like she had asked - his hair was still slightly damp, and stuck up in odd places. His shirt was inoffensive enough - it was all one colour at least - but it was still crumpled. Did he even own an iron? And he had a tank top underneath it, which - as per usual - left all his chest hair out on display. She should have specified that he cover the chest hair. Was it too much to ask that he at least try to look a little bit reputable? She would have to hope that no one like Aura or Harmony saw her with him … and that made her feel guilty, because she didn't want to not want people to see her with Doyle... And that was a confusing feeling in and of itself.

She flushed with embarrassment at her thoughts, and carried on talking hurriedly in order to cover for them. 'Giles is Buffy's watcher - or at least, he used to be. He usually knows what's going on - he's good with the book stuff. I know where he lives… he should be more help than _Xander._ Plus he'll be able to get into contact with Buffy.'

'OK - right - we go to Giles' house … and then?'

'And then he can do the thinking, instead! Jeez - I'm doing all the work, here, Doyle, could you quit with the questions, already?'

The Irishman held up his hands in surrender, 'I'm sorry - really - y' doin' great. I'm just … worried.'

Cordelia sighed, and pushed her hair back from her face, 'I know, I know. I'm sorry I snapped. It's just a lot of pressure…'

'And you're handlin' it magnificently,' he told her. Again she bit her lip to hide her smile at his praise. 'But you're right. This is Buffy and Giles' problem - when we get there, y' can hand over to them, and then things will be better.'

'I hope you're right,' she said. 'I just feel so awful - here I was convinced that Angel was gonna boink Buffy and turn evil, and now it turns out that he might have got into trouble before he even got to her - and all I did for three days was doubt him.'

'Well - how d'y' think I feel?' Doyle replied, 'it was my vision that sent him there in the first place. Anything that happens to him … happened because of me.'

'Oh no! That isn't true.' She twisted in her seat, so she could look at him better. Their knees were now touching in the confined space. She glanced down, and tried to move her leg slightly… but there was nowhere for it to go. She felt herself tense up - and he looked at her, looking equally tense. There was a silent moment between them - as they said nothing, but felt the pressure of their physical contact. When it became overwhelming, she broke the quiet. 'You don't get to choose what the PTB send to you - or when they do it. If anything's happened to Angel, it's their fault - not yours.'

'Y' think so?'

'Uhuh.'

'Thanks.' There was another awkward moment between them - and then, 'I'm gonna go get a coffee from the buffet car,' Doyle said to her, 'can I get you anything?'

He went off to go and buy the drinks, and Cordelia turned back to staring out of the window - feeling more in turmoil than ever. And not all of it was about Angel.

* * *

Willow arrived at the Dingoes' off campus house. She still had a key, so she let herself in. She could hear Devon and the drummer chatting in the kitchen - so she snuck up the stairs on tiptoes. Not that they minded her being there - over the years Willow had become a feature in their lives, they would find it nearly as weird as Oz up and leaving if she stopped being around, too. But the way that they looked at her, now, hurt - a look of sympathy, with an underlying tone that she needed to get over it and move on. Even Devon looked at her that way - and she wouldn't have thought he was deep enough to be capable of expressing two emotions at once. So she preferred to avoid them - and sneak into Oz's room undetected.

She opened the door, and smiled a wobbly smile, as her eyes flooded with tears. She was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of memories - it was this way every time. His bed still had the same sheets on from the day he left, his notes from class were still scattered across the desk, his second best guitar stood forlornly in the corner.

Kicking off her shoes, she lay down on the bed and remembered that last morning - wrapped in his arms. He had kissed her, as she talked in her sleep - and told her to come back to him. And she had said wilder, and more bizarre things - and he had known she was faking. She could remember just how it felt to be clasped in his arms, warm in his embrace. She could remember that feeling of utter security - of loving and being loved. Nothing could ever feel like that again. No other man could ever be to her what Oz was.

She picked up one of his t-shirts and held it close - inhaling deeply and breathing in his scent. His laundry powder, his aftershave … and an indefinable musk that was just ...Oz. She lay there for a long time, pretending he was on the bed beside her, breathing in his scent, losing herself in her memories.

Buffy didn't know that Willow still came here. She would get the same look on her face that Devon and the others had - that on a good day looked to Willow like sympathy, and on a bad day looked like pity - and irritation. Sure, Buffy knew heartbreak. She had suffered with Angel, more than any human should be able to bear. But Willow still knew that, despite her suffering - or maybe because of it - the slayer would still tell her to move on, as well. But Willow couldn't. Oz was gone. Oz. How could she ever move forward from this? How had Buffy ever moved forward from this?

* * *

Buffy arrived back at her dorm room - still pouting that she had been abandoned by everybody; Riley had gone to work, Willow had gone… somewhere, and here Buffy was, all alone on what was supposed to be a significant day. She could feel it. This day mattered, it was life changing… and yet, here she was, with nothing better to do but to study all alone up in her room. So much for the best day of her life.

She put her bag down, with a thump, took her shoes off and lay down on the bed. She'd just rest for a moment -and then she would study. She'd just close her eyes - but only to rest them - only for a moment...

 _She walked down the hallway of the dorm and into Giles' living room. Her watcher was there having an argument with Spike - who was still tied to a chair. 'Passions is on!'_

' _And I wish to watch the Bride of Frankenstein. It's very important.'_

' _But Passions is on! Timmy's been taken by the CIA and if you make me miss it...'_

' _Uh - Guys!' Buffy tried to interrupt them, but they didn't pay any attention to her… it was like they couldn't see her, didn't realise she was there. Giles switched on the television and tuned it into his programme. An angry mob were bearing down on the mad scientist._

' _Turn it over you poofter! The witch is gonna do a spell. Tabitha's gonna make Theresa and Alister fall in love… and who's gonna rescue Timmy?'_

' _Guys - are we sure this is the most important thing we can be discussing right now?'_

' _I'll tell you what we can be discussing,' a new voice cut in. Buffy glanced over and saw Xander sitting at the kitchen counter. Although he seemed to be answering Buffy, he wasn't looking at her, and it was as if he, too, couldn't see her. 'Why don't we discuss secrets… oh but we don't talk about those in front of Xander the non- college boy, do we? No we keep them all to ourselves. Past lovers blow into town and we just keep that a secret. I know you're all laughing at me, Buffy, Willow, Anya, Cordelia...'_

' _Cordelia?' Buffy was confused, she looked around at the three men. 'What is going on, here?' But none of them answered - and she moved towards the television screen, where the mad scientist was putting his finishing touches on his monstrous creation, as it slept. She crawled inside the screen - and found herself in a sterile, blindingly white hallway. An alarm sounded, the buzzer flashing red, staining the corridor with its bloody light._

 _Professor Walsh walked beside her. 'Love completes our deficient narcissist selves,' the Professor told her. 'We fall in love with people who are the mirror image of our ideal selves. We are all searching for that person who completes us - whom we don't need to compete with, as we feel they compliment us. True love means not feeling envy about your lover's abilities. Riley, have you brought me an apple?' Riley appeared next to them and handed the Professor a shiny, red apple, 'brought it all the way from Iowa,' he told them._

' _You're a good boy,' Maggie smiled._

' _What's going on?' Buffy asked, she looked around the hallway. 'Professor, where are we?'_

' _Now the truth is… you will forever be seeking an ideal mate. One who knows what you are and has no fear of it. One who values your true nature. One who is not_ hostile _to your abilities. You keep on looking in the same places.'_

' _I do?'_

 _A team of ski-masked commandos ran past them, through the corridor, carrying guns. Buffy watched them go. 'What am I looking for?'_

' _Why - this of course … right here.' Maggie came to a halt in front of a glass cage. Buffy peered inside and saw what was in there…_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

The elevator door slid open, and Riley stepped out onto the main concourse of the Initiative. Maggie stood a little way away, holding a clipboard and staring down into the inspection pit. She turned, as she heard the ping of the lift, and smiled when she saw Riley. 'Ah - Agent Finn, good - you're here.'

'Came as soon as you paged me Professor - what's going on?'

'There's something I want to show you,' she told him - leading him down the stairs and through the vast area where the scientists performed their experiments. Riley glanced around as he walked through, seeing one green, scaly HST lying unconscious on an operating table with it's chest cracked open. The group of doctors working on it were prodding and poking around inside it's chest cavity … but, like a good soldier, Agent Finn did not ask what they were doing.

Maggie led him across to one of the electronic doors which surrounded the perimeter of the inspection pit. She typed in a code, and swiped her clearance card and - after a computerised voice had recognised her clearance - there was a beeping sound and the door slid open. 'This is a highly classified area,' the Professor told Riley, 'top security - only myself and a few others have the security clearance to get in. It's where we keep our more… interesting acquirements.'

'Interesting?'

'Dangerous,' she clarified. 'But, as the team leader of the alpha squadron, there is something I need you to see. I need you to understand.' She came to a stop in front of a glass cage. Their corridor was in complete darkness and the cell was illuminated so they could see inside. There was a vampire in there - pacing up and down. It was the pretty one that Riley and his team had captured earlier in the week. 'This is Hostile 20,' Maggie told Riley, 'you remember I told you before Thanksgiving that we believed him to be older than most vampires we had taken - European in origin and potentially linked to our escapee, Hostile 17?'

Riley nodded his assent. Inside the cell, Hostile 20 stopped pacing - he went still, but he didn't look out towards where they stood. The soldier was unsure as to whether the vampire knew they were there or not. They were in darkness, and were talking quietly - they should be unobserved … and yet - the hostile had chosen to stop pacing exactly the moment they had come up on him. It made Riley feel a little uneasy.

'Well, we're taking no chances with this one getting out,' Profesor Walsh said, 'over the past couple of days we have carried out certain tests on him - not that he has been co-operative - you understand, but we have managed to check his reflexes, reaction times - measure his strength - the usual paces we put all the HSTs through. He is … off the chart. Stronger than any other vampire class HST we have seen - quicker too. And brighter. As was Hostile 17. I fear we have stumbled across something of a family - and I would be _very_ interested in learning how vampires operate as a group - the bonds they can share, how their pack is structured, how they behave towards one another. It is… fascinating… the thought that these demons, these animals, might mirror some of our own basic human behaviours and responses. And then to find out how we can manipulate these responses for our own ends…' she trailed off and looked at Hostile 20. The vampire remained perfectly still.

'I want the alpha squadron to find the rest of this family,' Maggie told Riley, 'I want Hostile 17 caught and brought back - so I can observe two male vampires in the same kin group interact with each other…. Does one dominate the other, I wonder? If they have mates, I want them tracked down too. Can vampires pair bond? Or are arrangements looser than that? I want to study exactly how vampire families are set up, how their hierarchy works - and even if they are capable of emotional attachments. Can these attachments last for centuries? This promises to be a fascinating and most rewarding field of study. Find his family for me, Agent Finn. Hunt down the woman this creature loves and bring her back here - so I can study his reactions when I experiment on her.'

Hostile 20 suddenly turned to face them - his human features morphing into his vampiric ones. He moved so quickly that Riley had barely time to register it happening - and then the vampire was slamming its hands against the glass wall that divided him from the humans. He was thrown back, immediately, by the electric field - but he slammed against it again - and then again. Riley took a step back, 'does he - uh - does he know we're here?' He asked the Professor.

'Vampires have excellent hearing,' she told the soldier, 'and his is second to none - we've tested it. Hostile 20 is reacting to the threat we pose to his mate.' She smiled in satisfaction, 'he has already told me so much, just with that one little action…' and she made a note on her clipboard, before turning and heading back down the corridor.

 **...**

Once the humans had disappeared, Angel morphed back into his human face and resumed his pacing. Over the days he had been locked in this cell, being observed, he had overheard enough descriptors of Hostile 17 to work out exactly who he was. And whilst Angel no longer ran with Spike - the humans had, through blunder and ignorance, managed to work out that the two of them _were_ connected.

Darla and Dru were long gone - the Demon Research Initiative would not be getting their hands on the women of Angel's family… but if Spike had stuck around in Sunnydale after he had escaped the labs….

Captain Peroxide would have come back to Sunnydale - after his botched attempt to track down the Gem of Amara in L.A - for one reason and one reason only. To kill Buffy. Buffy had still been alive on Tuesday night - and by Angel's reckoning it must now be Friday. Buffy may be dead, but if she wasn't - and dear God please let that be the case - then Spike may well still be sniffing around, looking to kill her.

The soldier boys had just been given orders to hunt down Spike and the women of his family. But they wouldn't find Spike with Drusilla. They would find him with Buffy - fighting with Buffy. And the commandos would take one look at this tiny woman, with her super strength and speed and agility, and _know_ there was something off about her. And even Buffy would be no match for those guns shooting out rays of electricity. They would capture her and bring her back here … and then the experiments would start.

He slammed his fists against the glass wall again, in frustration. This must have been the danger he was supposed to protect her from. But by getting captured himself, he had only endangered her further.

* * *

Buffy woke up from her nap - it was getting dark out - she really hadn't meant to fall asleep for so long. There was a strange feeling in her chest, and she couldn't work out what it was or why it was there. But it was bothering her. She tried to study for a little while, but she couldn't concentrate. She switched the light on, so she could read better - but it didn't help. She tapped her pencil relentlessly on the page of her textbook, and couldn't take in any of the words. It was a psychology book for Professor Walsh's class. They were learning about Freud's theories on the conditions of love and how that fit in with later psychological models… but it was hard going, with big words, and it was making her brain hurt.

Scanning around the room for inspiration, her eyes fell on the mini-fridge stashed under the desk. Oooh - she could have a snack. She got to her feet and opened the fridge door, crouching down to peer inside at her options. Willow had bought some apples - and there was a big, shiny red one sitting on the shelf. As she took it out, and took a big bite, her memory began to stir. She held the apple in her hand and stared down at it, frowning. And then it was like all the synapses in her brain crackled into life and her memory went into fast forward - with one single image erupting out like a firework, and then cascading through every fibre of her being. _Angel._

She had dreamed of him - now, she remembered.

' _Riley, have you brought me an apple?' Riley appeared next to them and handed the professor a shiny, red apple, 'brought it all the way from Iowa,' he told them._

' _You're a good boy,' Maggie smiled._

And then Buffy had asked what was going on - and Maggie had told her that she would always be looking for the same thing. And when Buffy had asked what it was she was looking for, Maggie had shown her - her heart's desire, locked in a glass case. _Angel._

She felt like she couldn't breathe, her chest constricted painfully - and she understood why she had felt so strange ever since she had woken up. No wonder she couldn't concentrate. It was a long time since she had dreamed of Angel. When he had first left, she had dreamed of nothing else - for weeks. But then she had started college, and she had been so busy that the dreams had lessened and lessened in frequency until eventually they had stopped all together.

And now she had dreamed of him again. Was it because of Riley, she wondered? Was it because she was just beginning to contemplate the idea of moving on - for real, this time - not like that time with Parker; when she had convinced herself she could be with a boy and it not be anything to do with Angel - only to realise, later, that it had been about Angel all along. Was it her heart telling her she wasn't ready to move on? Or her heart simply saying goodbye to the past?

This was too many thoughts, she thought, this was too much thinking. It was confusing - it made her brain hurt even more than the Freud had done. She needed things to be simpler. She was the slayer. There was one sure fire way of making things simpler. Abandoning her books, and dropping the remains of the apple in the trash - Buffy picked up Mr. Pointy and went out on patrol.

* * *

Spike was chained up in the bathtub and Giles had closed the bathroom door on him so he could no longer hear his yelling. The vampire was proving to be a very irritating house guest, but at least the watcher could gain a little peace by closing the door and wearing earplugs. He made himself a soothing cup of tea, and sank down on the sofa with a deep sigh. This was the stuff.

BAMBAMBAMBAM a sudden hammering at the door made him slop his tea all down himself, 'oh for Christ's sake,' he said, pulling his sweater and t-shirt away from his skin to try and prevent scalding. 'What is this now?' he stumbled towards the door, and as he did so he heard Spike resume his yelling.

The watcher opened his door and then stared in confusion, 'Cordelia?' he said. The woman, herself, pushed her way into his apartment without waiting to be asked. 'Angel's missing,' she said, without first offering any greeting. Giles turned his back on the door, so he could look at her. She stood in his living room and spoke without pause, whilst the watcher looked bemused. 'He came to Sunnydale to help Buffy on Tuesday and we haven't heard from him since. Xander said you guys haven't seen him either - something has happened to him and we have to find him - oh by the way,' she pointed back towards the door, 'this is Doyle - you should invite him in, you're being rude.'

Giles turned back to the doorway and looked at the small man who was stood there smiling in an apologetic sort of way.

'You're a vampire, too?' Giles asked him, looking him up and down. If he was a vampire, he was an unprepossessing one.

'Oh, no, bud,' Doyle replied, 'I just don't go bargin' into other people's houses, like Cordelia does.'

That made Giles breathe a small laugh, 'yes - well - do come on in.' He stepped back to allow Doyle entry, and the Irishman walked inside. Giles shut the door and turned to his unexpected guests, 'well - sit down - can I get you anything?'

'Y' got scotch?' Doyle asked, as he sat down beside Cordelia, but she smacked him across the chest with the back of her hand. 'We so don't have time for that!' she protested, 'Giles - Angel is missing and we need to find him.'

'Uh - right - yes - of course,' the watcher sat down in the chair opposite them, and took of his glasses and cleaned them. 'Perhaps you should start at the very beginning - why did Angel come to Sunnydale in the first place, and why do you think he is missing?'

* * *

Anya rolled her eyes, again. It was about her 100th eye roll of the day. Xander was acting all irrational and illogical and she was getting tired. All she had wanted to do today was watch him dig, watch as he flexed and rippled and began to sweat. And then she could imagine having sex with him. But instead, she'd spent the day being dragged around from pillar to post, Angel hunting.

So far they had gone to the creepy old mansion up on Crawford street, Angel's old basement apartment near the Bronze, the burnt out factory, the burnt out school building, the abandoned dorm on campus where Buffy had slayed a nest of vampires her first week of college, and the cheap motel on the outskirts of town. And they had found nothing. Zip. Nada. No sign of the slayer _or_ her old flame. But Xander still wasn't letting this go.

'You know if you just considered for a moment that you might not be right about this…' she tried to say to him. But he cut her off. 'Oh I'm right about this. Buffy's always had the big old yen for Angel - she thinks he's a real person. She can't see him for what he is. She forgot all about Miss Calendar's murder, just so she could have her boyfriend back. She hid him away from us for months, last year. We were stupid to ever think they could stay away from each other.'

'Well - so what? How is it our business if they want to be together?'

'They _can't_ be together - and Buffy knows that. Or at least, she pretended she did.'

'They're both adults,' Anya tried to sound reasonable, 'leave them to it - come on - let's go do something else… you could put your hard hat on for me and we could…' she twitched her eyebrows at him to convey her meaning.

'No. Angel being here puts us all in danger. It puts Buffy in danger too. You know - I tried to do this the right way, find her and speak to her and make her stop without involving anyone else…'

'I don't think it's _Buffy_ we've been looking for…'

But Xander continued like he hadn't heard her, 'but she's covered her tracks too well. Man! There's only one thing to do. We gotta make her see reason. We gotta go speak to Giles.' He began to walk down the road back into town. Behind him, Anya rolled her eyes for the 101st time - and then followed along after him.

* * *

Giles had gone into the kitchen to use the telephone. Cordelia and Doyle sat on the sofa, next to each other - a little awkward and uncomfortable in Giles' home. Cordy sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch. 'Are y' feelin' better now you've told Giles?' Doyle asked her, 'Y'know - now the weight isn't restin' on your shoulders, alone?'

'I don't know,' she replied, 'I just feel kinda hopeless - you know? I don't think Giles has any idea where to look for Angel - and neither will Buffy. All I've done is spread the worry - but I don't see how we can find a solution.'

'I think we'll be OK,' The Irishman told her, 'you'll see.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' He reached out and took her hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. Her eyes snapped open at once, and she looked across at him. He dropped her hand immediately, and dropped his eyes, as well, 'sorry,' he mumbled, 'I didn't mean…'

'No,' she said, regretting her panicky reaction. Her hand already missed the warmth of his own - and she wanted to reach out and touch him, again, but she was afraid to. 'No - I didn't ...I'm just… I'm just really tense is all - I'm at snapping point.'

'We can sort this Cordelia,' Doyle said to her, looking at her again. The expression in his eyes was warm and sincere and comforting - and Cordelia felt herself relax, a little, just looking into them. 'Now that we're here,' he said, 'we can sort this.'

...

'Uh - hello -Buffy?' They heard Giles begin to talk from in the kitchen, 'something - something rather urgent has come up. I need you to come over right away - as soon as you get this.'

There was the sound of the phone hanging up, and then Giles reappeared in the living room. Cordelia sat up straight, pulling herself upright. 'Did you speak to her?' she asked, 'Is Buffy coming?'

'I couldn't reach her,' the watcher admitted. 'But not to worry, not to worry,' he said when he saw the the crestfallen faces of the two young people on his sofa, 'I left her a message - she should be around soon.'

'Oi!' an unseen voice suddenly yelled out. 'Oi - I'm hungry - bring me some blood!' Cordelia and Doyle glanced at each other in confusion, and then looked over at Giles. 'Who was that?' Cordelia asked.

'That was - uh - that was Spike, actually,' the watcher admitted.

'Spike?'

' _The_ Spike - the killed two slayers, hired himself a torture demon to kill Angel, _Spike_?' Doyle checked.

'Um - yes, I'm afraid so,' Giles told them, 'he's had something of a mishap and is currently staying here.' Doyle and Cordy exchanged another look - this one hovering somewhere between bewilderment and fear. 'But it's quite alright,' the watcher assured them, 'he can't get loose - he's chained up in the bathtub.'

'Oi - bloody hell - what's a bloke got to do to get some service around here?' they heard the vampire yell, 'I'm starving to death!'

Giles sighed, very deeply, 'sadly - he isn't gagged,' he said - before getting up to microwave a cup of pig's blood.

* * *

Willow arrived back at the dorm. The lights were off - Buffy was out. That was good, she wouldn't realise how late back Willow had arrived - so she wouldn't ask awkward questions about where she had been. The little red light on their answer machine was blinking, so the witch pressed the button to listen to the message. ' _Uh - hello - Buffy? Something - something urgent has come up. I need you to come over right away - as soon as you get this.'_ Willow put her bag down on the bed, wondering…

The door opened and Buffy walked in, back from patrolling. 'Hey - you're back,' she said to her friend.

'You too,' Willow said - avoiding the inevitable next question. She eyed Mr. Pointy, 'did you bag any vamps?'

'Just one - freshly risen from his grave in that cemetery - over on North Street,' her voice went up at the end - turning her statement into a question - checking Willow knew where she meant. 'Wasn't much of a fight, though,' the slayer continued, 'he was all disorientated, just biff boom stake through the heart - poof. I was hoping for something bigger.'

'The Chumash Indians yesterday weren't enough?'

Buffy shrugged, 'I was just feeling … restless.'

'How come?'

She wasn't sure what to say that. She didn't want to tell Willow about her dream about Angel. About Professor Walsh telling her Angel was all she desired - that she was destined to always search for him. It seemed like such a step backwards - especially when she was supposed to be moving on with Riley. 'So where did you go?' she asked trying to change the subject.

'Oh - uh - chem lab. There was a … thing … I had to…' she still didn't want to admit she was sneaking into the Dingoes' house and cuddling up to Oz's T-shirts. 'Hey - you had a message from Giles.' She changed the subject, herself.

Buffy pressed play on the machine again - and listened to what her watcher had to say. Then she took her jacket off and started getting ready for bed. Willow looked at her in confusion '- uh - are you not gonna - you know - go over there? He said it was urgent.'

'It's just gonna be something about Spike,' the slayer said, 'and I _so_ don't wanna have to deal with Captain chip for brains right now.' Her head was still too full of Angel to deal with Spike. She wouldn't have the patience. Besides - the blonde vampire saw too much - sensed too much - and knew exactly how to push her buttons. He'd know something was up - and she couldn't deal with him knowing. If she was keeping this dream a secret from her best friend - and she wasn't sure why she was - she just was - then she really couldn't cope with her mortal enemy finding out.

'He makes you crazy,' Willow stated

' _Insane_. I know he has info on those commando guys - but I'm not gonna jump every time the peroxided pest decides to spill. I'll deal with it later - tomorrow.' And she climbed into bed. She wasn't sure if she hoped to have further dreams about Angel - or not.

* * *

'Do you think Buffy is on her way, yet?' Cordelia asked, anxiously. Doyle craned his neck so he could see the door, 'I don't know. I'm sure when she gets the message she'll be right over. It just depends how late she stays out tonight. It is Friday.'

'Yes, but Buffy doesn't have a life. She's too giant a freak. It's just a quick kill, then a cup of cocoa and then bed.'

'Then I'm sure she got the message and is on her way now - cocoa in hand.'

Giles had gone into the bathroom to give Spike his cup of pig's blood - leaving his other two guests alone in the living room. They remained squashed together on the couch. 'I've just had enough of waiting,;' Cordelia groaned, 'I want action - a plan, you know?'

'Yeah.'

'I feel so hopeless.'

'Um - would - would y'be too - um - too tense if I put my arm around y'?' Doyle stuttered, seeing the strain in her expression, wanting to make her feel better - but not wanting a repeat of their earlier botched interaction. 'Y'know just in a - in a um - comforting, sorta way?'

She inhaled sharply.

'Forget it,' he mumbled, 'that was bad timing.'

'No,' she said, 'no - it's fine. I think I wouldn't mind it.'

'Yeah?'

She nodded, and he snaked his arm around her shoulders. She sighed, again, very deeply, and then rested her head against his shoulder - closing her eyes once more. He began to stroke her hair, absentmindedly. 'That feels nice,' she murmured, 'I feel better. More relaxed.'

BAM

The door flew open. 'Buffy?' Cordelia's eyes snapped awake and she tried to twist around to see the door. But Doyle's arm was still around her - his hand twined through her hair, and the pair of them ended up hopelessly tangled, as they both tried to see who had just arrived. Doyle had never met the slayer - but he knew this person could not be the chosen one. It was a young man, for a start - younger than Doyle, and taller too. His expression had been one of fury when he had burst through the door - but that changed to one of shocked incomprehension when he saw the young woman on the sofa. 'Cordelia?' he asked - sounding incredulous.

Cordy glanced between the man she was intertwined with and the angry man in the doorway. Equally incredulous - and feeling a guilt that she did not understand - she met her ex boyfriend's uncomprehending eyes. ' _Xander?_ '


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Angel prowled up and down the length of his cage. There had been no more visitors since the doctor and the big dumb lunk of beef jerky had come and stared at him. The demon hunting world's answer to Chuck Norris would be out hunting Spike, now - and any woman Spike happened to be with. Buffy. Beef Jerky would be hunting Buffy. And here Angel was - trapped. He couldn't just wait here - not anymore - he had to act. But what? How?

He slammed his fists against the glass, and once again was thrown back by the electrical force field. Whatever his way out of here was, it wasn't through the front of his cell. He stopped his pacing and looked around. The prison that held him was small, the walls were smooth - they were white - and the only disturbance to their even surface were tiny air vents up in the top corners. He assumed that must be for when they held demons other than vampires. It didn't matter if they were pumping in oxygen or some more noxious gas into his cage - he didn't breathe. They couldn't suffocate him. But the vents were too small to offer a way of escape.

There was a beeping sound - and, in the ceiling, one of the panels slid back and dropped a package of blood down onto the ground beside him. He eyed the blood - and then he looked upward - eyeing the place where the roof had just opened. If he could just act quickly enough - quick enough that they wouldn't spot him on CCTV, until it was too late - then he might just have an idea...

* * *

The alpha squadron moved through the forest, their guns held ready. 'Why are we out here looking for some vampire's immortal babe?' Forrest was complaining, 'Does the professor have proof that she even exists?'

'The professor told us to look,' Riley replied - his tone brooking no argument, 'it isn't our job to ask 'why?''

'I just hate being pulled back from my Thanksgiving weekend to hunt down a killer chick that Walsh cooked up in her head.'

'We're soldiers, we follow orders. You got a problem with that, agent?'

'No, sir…' but the commando was still scowling, as they walked on through the trees.

Graham had his scanner out - and was tracking for any possible signs of vampire activity - but they were finding nothing. 'Hostile 17 has gone to ground,' he said, 'we haven't seen any trace of him since the night he escaped -'

'And I'm saying, blundering through the woods just hopin' to find him is counter productive,' Forrest interrupted, harping at Riley once again. 'We need a plan.'

'This is the plan - we look for him. We're looking for him in the environs where he was caught, as we assume he knows this place and had reason to be here in the first place. What else do you suggest?'

Forrest had no answer to that.

'We check out caves, crypts and abandoned buildings - all the normal places a vampire might hide,' Agent Finn said, 'where else could a hostile subterrestrial go? It's not like they can just knock on someone's door and ask for asylum.'

'Yeah,' Graham chuckled, 'who in their right mind would keep a neutered vampire in their house?'

* * *

'Oi!' Spike yelled from his position, chained in the bathtub, 'what's goin' on? Why has everyone gone quiet?' Nobody answered him. 'Is the slayer here?' he shouted. Nothing. Out in the living room, the seconds lengthened - as the silence between Xander and Cordelia became palpable. Doyle looked between the two of them, his brow furrowed, as he tried to work out what was going on. Anya had also noticed the tension - and was none to pleased. 'Giles!' she said to the librarian, who had left the bathroom when he heard his front door open, 'what's going on? Why is _she_ here? And who is the short man with extreme amounts of chest hair?'

The watcher took his glasses off, and cleaned them, before answering, 'uh - Cordelia is worried about Angel. She and her friend have come to Sunnydale, looking for help. It seems - uh - it seems they've lost him.'

'I knew it!' Xander said, 'he's snuck back here to boink Buffy. He's probably evil right now - wearing leather pants and making snacks of the local populace. I _knew_ something like this would happen. Getting rid of dead boy was just too good to be true.'

'Listen, bud…' Doyle started to say, a deep frown still etched on his face - he didn't think too much of this young man standing in the doorway. But Xander cut him off, 'is anyone talking to you, Short Round?' He turned back to Giles, 'so what's the plan - saddle up and get with the slaying, no? Ahn and I have been looking for the great forehead all day - we found nothing. We need Buffy to start talking.'

'Well - Buffy isn't answering her phone right now,' Giles settled himself down on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, and folded his arms across his chest, 'but why do you think she knows anything about this?'

Xander stared at him like he was mad, 'why else would he be here? He and Buffy are seeing each other behind all our backs!'

'I wonder if you're not jumping to conclusions, rather. Perhaps you've got the wrong end of the stick?'

'Oh - I think I'm right end of the stick guy. The real question is - why is everyone else refusing to see what's right in front of them?'

Over by the sofa, Cordelia seemed to unfreeze from her surprise and embarrassment at having Xander catch her in Doyle's arms, and rolled her eyes. 'Of course - dorkhead is jealous of Angel and is acting all irrational - just like old times,' she snapped. Xander looked at her, in annoyance, 'dorkhead - you slash me with your words. Gee, Cordy, I guess after the IRS took all your stuff you just couldn't afford that personality transplant you so desperately needed.'

'Hey, bud…' Doyle began to protest - his brow still lowered, his voice angry; but he was cut off by Cordy - who was far too used to Xander's insults to let them penetrate. 'Gee Xander - and I guess you're still so much of a _loser_ that you can't even afford to move out of your parent's home. Still sleeping in the bedroom you grew up in?' she snorted, 'that's embarrassing!'

'Actually, he lives in the basement, now,' Anya told her. Xander snapped his head round to glare at his girlfriend, 'shut up!'

'What? I was helping!'

Cordelia was giggling behind her hand. Her ex boyfriend looked back at her, 'shallow harpie,' he shot at her. 'Badly dressed hobo,' she fired straight back. Doyle glanced over at Giles - hoping that the older man would be able to bring some order back to the conversation. The watcher took the hint and cleared his throat, 'yes - well - now we've all taken that lovely stroll down memory lane, maybe we should get back to the problem at hand. Now, Xander - if what Cordelia and Doyle say is true, then Angel has not been visiting Buffy in secret.'

'Not until Tuesday, at least,' Cordelia said. 'Mr. 'I'm so tortured' does nothing but fight crime and brood in his bat cave. We'd totally notice if he was sneaking off to Sunnydale for a groin session every other week. We work pretty unsociable hours - and he's always there.'

'So what was different about Tuesday?' Xander asked - he still sounded sceptical.

'Doyle had a vision,' Cordelia indicated her friend, standing next to her. Xander turned his gaze on him. He hadn't forgotten the way this short guy had had his hands all over Cordy when he and Anya had walked through the door. And even though they were now standing apart, the younger man could still see the way that this guy was looking at Cordelia. He knew what that look meant - Short Round's feelings for Cordy were right in front of his Xander face. He scowled. 'A vision? What does that mean - exactly?'

Doyle opened his mouth to answer. 'It means the Powers That Be sent a direct message to Angel telling him Buffy was in trouble - only they did it by giving Doyle a headache,' Cordelia interrupted. 'With pictures,' she added as an afterthought.

'You have the pure sight?' Anya sounded very impressed - and she was suddenly paying much more attention to Cordy's unprepossessing friend. Xander looked even more irritated than before. _'What?'_

'If the higher powers chose to give him the direct sight - it means the beings who govern this plane of existence talk directly to him. They chose him - out of everyone - to bear their messages. It's really rare,' the former vengeance demon told her boyfriend, 'like - vampire slayer, chosen one kind of rare. If this short man with the chest hair has visions from The Powers then we should listen to him.'

Xander was looking increasingly annoyed. Doyle was looking increasingly embarrassed - but Cordelia was looking pleased, and impressed. She turned to look at her friend, as if seeing him in a whole new light. She had never heard his gift described this way before - like he was someone important. Someone chosen.

'And the vision was of Buffy - in some kind of danger, yes?' Giles prompted. Cordelia shook her head, and blushed as she realised she had been staring at Doyle. 'Oh - yeah.'

'So what did you see, exactly?' Xander's voice was still unfriendly. He'd seen Cordy come to herself, realise she had been staring, and he didn't like it.

'I don't know - exactly,' Doyle told him. He held Xander's gaze - green eyes meeting brown ones, both pairs were steely and unflinching. 'I just saw Buffy. I don't get visions of good stuff. If I saw Buffy it meant she was in danger - and if I was told about it, it meant that the higher powers wanted Angel here to help out. I'm just the messenger - I just take the names, but the messages come for him. Buffy was in trouble - so Angel left town to come here.'

'And then he never came back - and we didn't hear from him, ever since he left. And you guys haven't seen him either - which means he's missing!' Cordelia pushed her hair back from her face; her expression was frantic, once more, as she recounted the trouble they now found themselves in.

'And we're all just supposed to believe all this?' Xander said.

'Duh! _Yes_!'

'Xander,' Giles shifted on his bar stool. 'I see no reason to disbelieve their version of events. Now the fact is that somewhere between L.A and Sunnydale, Angel went missing - and we must make every effort to find him. Buffy is not involved in this - but she will want to know and she will want this solved.'

'If she ever turns up,' said Cordelia, 'where is she?'

* * *

Buffy groaned in her sleep, her head tossed back on forth on her pillow as she dreamed. _She sat in the lecture hall, Maggie Walsh was up at the front - lecturing. 'Identifying the threats,' the professor said - she had a large stick which she used to point at the slide. There was a picture of a vampire projected there, and around Buffy the whole class was making notes. 'The part of the brain that assesses threats is the amygdala - it is ancient, powerful, it has been seen to have been already developed in early fishes. It is what we might call our 'lizard brain' - primitive, watchful … but not necessarily smart. When a living creature, a bird, a reptile, a mammal - you, senses danger it is your amygdala that reacts. Sitting right on top of your brainstem - it causes adrenaline to be pumped into your bloodstream. It is what triggers our fight or flight reaction.'_

 _She tapped the image of the vampire. 'But as humans, fight or flight is not always what we need. Some things that may appear frightening are not real threats at all … whilst we can easily miss that which really endangers us, if the danger can blend into the back ground … Riley, next slide please.' Behind her, her T.A clicked the remote, and the slide changed. It showed a red apple. 'Sometimes, even the most wholesome thing can be the danger that threatens us - and those we love. Where did this apple come from, Riley?'_

' _I got it myself, in Iowa.'_

' _You're a good boy.' She turned back to the class, 'now - a demonstration. I need a volunteer … Buffy Summers.' Buffy looked around her, in surprise - but Willow gave her a shove, and she got to her feet and walked down to the front of the lecture hall. She stood next to the professor, staring back up at her classmates - an embarrassed expression on her face. She smoothed her skirt down, and hoped that this would prove to be quick. 'So,' Maggie was saying, 'here we have a normal college girl, or so she seems - and what sort of threats might trigger her flight or fight response?'_

' _Being made to stand in front of the class whilst everyone stares at me?' Buffy joked, feebly. Professor Walsh ignored her. 'Release the threats, Riley,' she said to her T.A. He clicked the remote again - and then, with a red flashing light and the sound of a siren, the walls to the classroom slid open - and vampires emerged from behind them and began to circle the slayer. Buffy turned to face them - her sense heightened. 'Kill the lights,' Maggie said to Riley - the whole lecture hall was plunged into darkness._

 _Buffy whipped around, straining all her senses to help her find the vampires in the dark. 'They know what you are,' she heard Maggie say, her voice was a whisper - right in the slayer's ear, but Buffy could not feel that the older woman was close by. 'They know what you can do … just as you know what they are. You have to sense the danger, Buffy - reach out with your mind - who is it here that will cause you most harm?'_

 _She could feel the vampires crowding around her, closing in - but, in the darkness, she could not see them. She was all too aware they would be able to see here, though. Their night vision - the eyesight of a nocturnal predator - gave them this advantage. But she was the slayer. And that was enough. It was always enough. It had to be._

' _Where is the danger, Buffy?' she heard Maggie say. Trusting to her senses, Buffy leapt forward - she pushed two bodies to the side - and felt them fly across the room, as a result of her strength. Then she pounced on the figure straight in front of her - knocking them to the floor, one hand around its neck, Mr. Pointy at its heart. The lights came back on. 'Well done, Ms. Summers,' she heard Maggie say. She looked down at the body beneath her. Riley was blinking up at her, looking surprised. She'd pulled away from him. 'I'm sorry,' she said._

' _It's just a demonstration,' he gave her his biggest, toothiest smile._

 _Maggie was lecturing back to the class, now. 'As Buffy has so ably demonstrated - the biggest threat can oftentimes appear non-threatening. Our lizard brain can be very helpful, can keep us alive in a crisis, but we also need our higher order thinking skills. We need to be able to accurately assess the danger we find ourselves in - and act accordingly.' She turned back to Buffy, 'now, Buffy - how is it that Riley threatens you? What danger does he pose to you or those you love?'_

 _The slayer scrunched her face up, thinking - and then turned - shoving Riley to one side, she ran through the now open walls of the lecture hall. She found herself in a long white corridor with cages, fronted by glass, running along each side. Each cell held a demon - and she ran down the corridor until she reached the very end. Then, she pulled up short - and stared at the man inside the last cage. 'Angel.'_

* * *

It had taken him three attempts; but, eventually, Angel had been able to jump up, hook his fingernails under the panel that slid open to admit the blood, and rag it back open. He hung from it a moment, and then pulled the tile free from the roof and down to the floor - creating a gaping hole in the ceiling. Then he jumped back up and hung, one handed from the rim of the hole, whilst he used his other hand to pull more tiles loose. He worked quickly, smashing at the panel with his fists - knocking them free and letting them fall to the ground and break. He vented three days worth of frustration and fear onto those panels. He kept smashing until his knuckles bled. And then, once he had created a big enough hole, he pulled himself up into the gap. He was now free from his cell, and inside the ceiling cavity of the Initiative. In complete darkness, the walls of the tunnels pressing in on him from either side, he began the long crawl to freedom.

* * *

The alpha squadron arrived back at base. 'Anything to report?' Maggie Walsh asked them. Riley stood to attention, 'that's a negative ma'am. Hostile 17 appears to have gone to ground, we found no sign of him or a wider HST family.'

'He must be somewhere nearby,' she sounded irritated.

'We'll get him, ma'am. Him and the demon women.'

'You'd better.' She was cut off from saying anything further by the sirens suddenly going off and the all the lights in the holding area flashing red. 'Alert alert' the computerised female voice sounded throughout the compound, 'all teams on standby.'

'What's going on?' Forrest looked around - staring down into the inspection pit beneath them. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary happening. 'Escaped hostile in the compound,' the computerised voice said, 'all units on alert.'

'Hostile 20,' Maggie said, her voice sounded pinched. She looked at the three soldiers that led the alpha squad, 'you three come with me,' she said - and she led them down to the comms room to find out what was happening.

* * *

Giles looked at his watch, it was late - and he wanted all these people out of his house so he could go to bed. 'I don't think Buffy is going to show up tonight,' he told the others, 'so I suppose we had better leave this until morning. If you all come back first thing…'

' _What_?' Cordelia sounded incensed, 'we can't just leave this til tomorrow - we need to save Angel now!'

The watcher sighed, 'Cordelia do stop being tiresome…'

'Hey!' Doyle protested, but Giles continued as if there had been no interruption. 'Angel has been missing since Tuesday. We have no way of tracking him, as yet - a few more hours will do no harm. We have to trust that, if he isn't already dead, then he can handle himself until we can find him.'

'And if he is already dead a few more hours really won't hurt,' Xander added.

Giles looked uncomfortable, at the blunt assessment. 'Quite,' he agreed. 'Now I suggest Xander and Anya go on home and Cordelia and Doyle … perhaps check into the motel.'

The two newcomers to town gave each other an awkward glance, at that. 'They can stay at my place,' Anya offered. 'I've been trying to have loud and obnoxious sex with Xander all day, now. I've waited long enough. He's gonna wear his hard hat for me. But that means I'll be in the basement - so they can stay at mine… what?' she asked as she saw everyone's extremely embarrassed expressions.

'Remember what we said about private lives not being private when we talked about them in public?' Xander said to her. She looked confused. 'I shouldn't have mentioned the hard hat?'

'You shouldn't have mentioned any of it,' then he turned to rake an unfriendly eye over Doyle. 'So are you guys bed sharing buddies, or what?'

' _What business is that of yours, Xander Harris?_ ' Cordelia's voice was heated - and it was matched by the intense blush spreading across her face.

'Anya's place is a one bed,' Xander said to her - his tone withering, 'if the two of you aren't special groin buddies, then you can go with Ahn, Cordy - and Short Round can come to mine.'

'But - ' Anya began to protest. But Xander cut her off. 'So what is it?' he asked - keeping his voice and gaze challenging as he looked at Cordelia and this new guy. She just couldn't be - not with this guy - Xander wasn't going to believe it. Cordelia picked up her purse from off the sofa, 'fine,' she said, her tone equally aggressive, 'Anya - I'll stay with you, Doyle have fun in the basement. I'll see you tomorrow.'

She walked over to the door. Anya was not looking too pleased with the state of affairs - but, with a deep sigh, she leaned in to kiss Xander goodbye. 'So - you guys are still an item?' Cordy asked, when they broke apart, 'what happened, Harris - did every human woman on the planet reject you so hard you had no choice but to start dating demons?' She opened the door - and her and Anya left. She didn't look back - and so didn't see the worried and hurt expression that took up residence on Doyle's face when he heard her parting shot to Xander.

* * *

'What's happened?' Maggie Walsh demanded, as she and the three soldiers entered the comms room. One of the agents working at the computers pointed to the screen that showed the live feed to Hostile 20's cell. It was empty. 'How did this happen?' the professor asked.

'The cameras cover all cells, but rotate between them. During the time the CCTV was off in his cell, Hostile 20 found means to escape.'

'What means?'

But the agent shrugged, 'search me.'

Maggie sighed, 'come on,' she said to Riley and the others, 'we need to inspect his cage.' They followed her back out of the comms room, through the inspection pit and down to the entrance to the high security corridor. Maggie gave her clearance and the doors opened. They walked down the hall - until they reached the observation area that overlooked the cell.

'Electro rays at the ready, boys,' she said to them, 'this may be a trap.' She swiped her card - and the glass front slid away. The Soldiers crept inside, alert for the hidden Hostile. But the place really was empty. Riley looked upwards, 'he went up,' he said - seeing the hole in the ceiling. 'He's probably still in the building. Don't worry professor - we'll find him.'

* * *

Xander and Doyle had left, and Giles gratefully made his way to bed. It wasn't that he wasn't worried about Angel - he was, but blundering around in the dark would solve nothing. They would be much better placed to help him, in the light of day. So, until then - the watcher just shut down the little nagging voice of anxiety that chattered in his ear. There was nothing he could do, now. He'd be better after a good night's sleep.

As he got halfway up the stairs, he heard Spike begin to yell again. 'Oi - why has it gone quiet?' the vampire shouted, 'did everyone go?'

With a deep sigh, Giles shook his head and ignored his undead house guest - instead continuing on his way to bed.

Down in the bathroom, Spike looked down glumly at the shackles that kept him bound in the tub. 'It gets lonely back here,' he complained.

* * *

Riley and the squad had geared up. They had headsets on so they could talk with Professor Walsh and each other, and they each carried their taser guns. As Riley climbed into the ceiling cavity, he heard a crackle in his earpiece, and then Maggie's voice. 'Hostile 20 has been electronically tagged,' she told him, 'after the disaster of Hostile 17 we now tag all HSTS during the initial assessment and examination. We are just switching the signal on - now. Standby.'

He waited for a moment. Then he heard the professor's triumphant voice. 'Hostile 20 is headed west across the compound,' she said in his ear, 'Riley - I want you to take the tunnel directly to your left…' there was a crackle then, as she switched to giving instructions to Forrest and Graham - sending them off to different points.

Riley began to crawl down the tunnel - it was a close fit, and he felt lucky that he was not claustrophobic. His night vision goggles made everything an eerie green.

* * *

Angel kept on heading West. This tunnel headed upward - and he was sure he would eventually reach the ground. He had dug his way out of his own grave, once upon a time - he was not afraid of having to dig his way out of this place. But as he moved onward he could practically smell the soil, the surface was calling to him. He just needed to get there. But far behind him, his vampire hearing caught the distant sound of hands slapping against the metal of the vents. And then he was able to pick up heartbeats. And shallow breath. The commandos were on to him. He increased his speed.

* * *

'Agent Gates, this is Agent Finn do you copy?'

'Copy that.'

'There's something ahead of me, Forrest,' Riley said into his headset, 'what is your position?'

'In the tunnels north west of you - over the classified section of the Initiative.'

'It's all classified,' Riley smiled.

'Yeah - but I'm over the bits us soldiers aren't meant to know about.'

Riley frowned, he didn't understand what Forrest was talking about. 'Miller,' he spoke to Graham, 'where are you? Over?'

There was a crackle of static - 'in the north east tunnels - converging on Gates in approximately 100 metres.'

'We better hope the hostile's somewhere in the middle, then,' Riley said, 'carry on.' Maggie's voice came down the line, then. 'Hostile 20 is entering an intersection - approximately 50 paces ahead of you, Riley. All three - head forward and converge. Fire on sight.'

* * *

Angel scrabbled onward, on his hands and knees. He was close now - he could feel it, sense it. Freedom was just a few short feet away. He came out to a more open space at the end of his tunnel. There were two more tunnels forking off from it - but ahead was a dead end. This was it, beyond that was soil, and then freedom.

He reached the wall - it was lined with the same metal he had been crawling though - and, like he had back in his cell, he attempted to get his fingernails beneath the panel and then haul it away. It took all his strength, but he had a corner down - and was ragging it further and further. The soil behind the panel began to trickle through the gap, falling in his eyes - reminding him of the night he first rose as a vampire. So close - so close - just a bit further. He grit his teeth, and pulled with all his might.

But then he heard a sound coming from the north east tunnel. A commando was crawling down it - gun at the ready. Knowing the soldier would fire, before he could reach him - the vampire made the decision to abandon this panel and escape down the next tunnel, hoping he'd find another exit point.

He started to crawl towards the north west tunnel - hoping to keep enough distance between him and GI Joe that the soldier couldn't fire. But there was another one of them - coming straight at him. He turned again - realising he would have to head back the way he had come. Heading back down his own tunnel - he had barely gone 10 paces, when he came face to face with Beef Jerky. Beef Jerky stared at him for a moment - and then fired. Behind him, the other two commandos also opened fire. Angel felt himself hit by all three of the electric rays - and then everything went black …


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

'You can sleep on the couch,' Anya said, 'or you can share the bed with me, whatever.'

'The couch is fine,' Cordy said - opening her bag and taking out her pajamas and toothbrush, 'since I moved to L.A, I've slept in a lot worse places, believe me.'

'Well - as long as you're not here to sleep with Xander,' the ex vengeance demon suddenly narrowed her eyes, 'you didn't come back here to sleep with Xander?' she checked - her voice stern.

'What? No! God - no. I am so over that part of ancient history. You can have him.'

'Good,' Anya nodded, 'because we have loud, sweaty sex together, frequently, and I like it.' Cordelia looked startled. She stared at the other woman, but Anya seemed to show no hint that she was aware she had said anything inappropriate. 'Well - that's ...nice,' Cordy gave her widest smile to try and cover up her discomfort.

'It is -' Anya sat down in the armchair and watched as Cordelia took face creams and lotions out of her bag and lined them up on the coffee table. 'So - you and the small man with visions aren't orgasm friends?' she asked.

Cordelia's hand slipped and she knocked her moisturiser to the ground - and then stared up at Anya. 'Me and Doyle? No … no … we're just … we're - I mean we joke around some times, but…'

'But you don't fool around?'

'Not in the physical sense of the word, no,' she retrieved her moisturiser and put it back next to her night cream, day cream and hand cream.

'Do you want to?'

Cordelia bit her lip and blushed, 'we haven't said anything … I mean - he hasn't ever said anything definite… I don't know that he really feels…'

'Why don't you just ask him?'

'Well - I don't - I don't…' Cordelia couldn't quite come up with an answer to that, and so she just stuttered until she finally ran out of steam and blushed again. Anya shrugged, 'when I decided I wanted Xander, I just took my clothes off and told him I wanted to have sex - why don't you do that?'

Cordelia's eyes had now popped slightly - they were wide and staring and her mouth was agape. The blush staining her cheeks was a furious, burning red and her breathing was shallow. 'OK can we - can we _not_ talk about this?' she asked, 'any of this - not Doyle, not Xander - none of it.'

Anya shrugged again - and an uncomfortable silence filled the air. The former vengeance demon sat in her armchair and looked around the room - trying not to make eye contact with the other woman, as she could no longer think of anything to say. Under the guise of putting her night cream on, Cordelia snuck a peek at her. 'OK - Anya? Can I ask you something?' she finally asked, breaking the silence. 'What do you know about the visions? The ones that Doyle has?'

'Oh - those,' Anya nodded her head, 'they've been around for aeons. There's always someone out there carrying them.'

'And they get chosen? Like slayers?'

'Well - not so much. Smote from on high, more like. There are powers that govern this plane of existence - they work for both sides and they're locked in an immortal chess game - but with the world as their board. The powers on the side of good work through champions -'

'You mean like Buffy and Angel?'

Anya nodded, 'but sometimes they give those champions a messenger so they don't just blunder around in the dark.'

'And - how do they choose the messenger?' Cordy asked - now rubbing moisturiser up her arms and trying to keep her voice casual.

'They find some demon in the same city as their champion - someone who's done something wrong, usually - and send them the visions, sort of punishment and atonement wrapped up in one… it's a neat set up, but vengeance is more efficient.'

Cordelia was looking confused, she smiled uncertainly, 'well - they must have made a mistake, this time,' she said, 'Doyle's not - not a _demon_.'

'He's not?'

'No!'

'You're sure?'

' _Yes!'_

'Well,' Anya looked thoughtful, ' _that's_ not gonna end well for his head,' she muttered to herself.

But Cordelia wasn't listening, she was still thinking about everything the former vengeance demon had told her about her friend's powers. 'But - back at Giles' you said we should listen to Doyle,' she said, 'that if he has the visions then he knows what he's talking about - but now you're saying that he's just got them because the PTB want to punish him for something? I can't imagine what _Doyle_ could do that would even get the higher powers to notice he existed - never mind decide to make him atone. Unless he wore a really _really_ ugly shirt. Do the PTB read Vogue?'

'We _should_ listen to him,' Anya replied, 'he has a direct line to the higher powers - they talk to him, he tells us what they want.'

'So he's like a carrier pigeon?'

'But with a lot more chest hair,' Anya agreed. 'So are you gonna ask him to be orgasm friends with you?'

'We're not talking about this!'

* * *

'Sleep there,' Xander said, pointing at the beige recliner chair next to his bed. Doyle glanced at it - it could be worse. The whole basement was pretty grim and depressing, it made his apartment seem nice, by comparison. But at least the chair could lie almost horizontal. He had slept in worse places, since he had discovered he was a demon and fallen in with the lowlifes. He said nothing and just took his shoes off and sat down; he stretched his legs out and rested his head back and shut his eyes.

'So - you think you're in with a shot with Cordelia?'

Doyle opened his eyes and looked at Xander. The other man had taken his pants and shirt off and got into bed. His tone of voice was not friendly, as he asked his question. It was hostile - and had something of a mocking quality to it. This was not gossip or chit chat - this was picking a fight.

'Is that any of your business, bud?' Doyle asked him. He raised an eyebrow to convey that he had heard and understood Xander's challenge but was not rising to it.

Xander pretended to think about it, 'well - as you're staying in my house and Cordelia is someone I care about - yeah I think it's my business.' His voice was now sarcastic.

'You care about Cordy?' Doyle sounded disbelieving, 'you got a funny way of showing it. You said some pretty nasty things to her back there.'

'We go a long way back,' Xander told him, still unfriendly - and trying to make it clear that he knew more about Cordelia than this other man - this interloper - did, and therefore his opinion counted for more. 'We have a way of relating to each other. But Cordelia is important to me - I have a duty to look out for her - make sure she's not … getting involved with the wrong sort of people.'

Doyle raised another eyebrow, 'and what makes me the 'wrong sort o' people'?' There was a definite hint of menace in his own voice now. Xander shrugged, 'I don't know you, that's why I gotta check.'

'Uhuh,' Doyle nodded slowly, 'and what does your current girlfriend think about the way you feel about Cordy?'

'That's different,' Xander snapped.

'Is it?'

'Look - short round - Anya's my girlfriend. That's all there is to it. But just because I've moved on doesn't mean that I have to be happy that some short guy in an ugly, crumpled shirt is sniffing around my Cordy.'

'Your Cordy?'

'My _friend_ \- who I go way back with,' Xander replied, cursing himself, silently.

'Your friend who you insult and yell at? Funny, I don't treat my friends like that. Kinda reminds me of the end days of my marriage, though - lotsa yellin' then. Didn't personally insult my ex wife though - I'm not that kinda guy.'

'You have an ex _wife_? Well, forgive me - I didn't realise what a catch you were. Not only are you a much older, badly dressed man - you're a _divorced_ , much older, badly dressed man. Does Cordy know?'

'Yes,' Doyle said briefly, 'so - when you say 'moved on' - to Anya - you mean you used to be Cordelia's boyfriend?' He knew she'd dated a lot in the past, of course he did - look at her - any guy would be crazy not to want to go out with her. He'd even witnessed her go on dates. But - really? This guy? Living in his mother's basement? That this guy - this loser - had managed to close the deal on Cordelia, when he couldn't even work up the nerve to ask her out for dinner, really bothered him. Surely Cordy had higher standards than this?

'Yeah - OK - I was her boyfriend,' Xander sounded defiant and belligerent. 'We dated - for a long time. She couldn't get enough of me.'

'So why'd you break up?'

There wasn't an answer. Doyle looked over at where the other man was lying in the bed. He was on his back, staring up at the ceiling - his face wore a closed expression, like he was suppressing something. The Irishman suddenly remembered something that Cordelia had said to him on Thanksgiving - when she was asking her awkward questions about him and Harri. 'You cheated on her,' he surmised. Xander didn't reply - and Doyle knew he was right. 'Well - not that's it any o' your business,' the Irishman said, 'but you don't have to run a background check on me - I'll just tell y' straight - I would _never_ cheat on someone I loved. You don't have to worry about me hurtin' Cordelia - the way you did.'

'Look - can you just - shut up?' Xander said, 'stop talking, go to sleep and tomorrow you can get the hell out of my life again.'

'Fine,' Doyle agreed, 'once we've found Angel - me and Cordy will get out o' your hair for good.'

'Right - dead boy,' Xander snickered. 'Hanging out with you and Angel - Cordelia sure does have poor taste in friends.'

'You know it's funny,' Doyle replied, 'I was just this minute thinkin' the exact same thing.'

Xander glared at him - but Doyle pretended not to notice and closed his eyes, once more.

* * *

When Angel came to, it was to find himself back in a cell - except, now, he was strapped to a body board and stood upright - like Hannibal Lector. He tried to strain against his bonds, but couldn't work his way free.

'That was quite the run around you gave us,' the female scientist's voice came floating into his cell through the speaker. 'Impressive, Hostile 20 - though not as good as your brother, who actually made it all the way out. But we'll get him, just like we got you.'

'I don't have a brother,' Angel said to her, 'You're wrong about me having family, here. You should just call your little tin soldiers off the hunt - and stick to experimenting on me.'

'Fascinating,' Professor Walsh said, and she scribbled a note on the file she was holding. 'The discovery of family units amongst vampire class hostile subterrestials is something of a game changer - and something my superiors in Washington will be interested to know about. But, the fact that a bond between vampire kin is so strong that a beast like yourself would want to sacrifice your own safety in order to keep those you pair bond with safe … it's unprecedented. This mate of yours - she must be really something.'

'I don't have a mate,' Angel said desperately, 'you're wrong! You're looking for something that doesn't exist.'

The professor smirked, broadly, 'I didn't know vampires could act - either,' she said. 'Truly - studying you - an older, more powerful than average vampire - is proving to be an exhilarating intellectual experience. I can't wait to have your mate on the operating table,' she said to him, 'to tie her down and to see the look on your face when we cut into her. Then we can find out if an animal can love - and how we can use that to our advantage.'

With a final smirk and a nod of her head, she turned and walked away. 'You stay away from her!' Angel yelled, desperately, at her retreating back, 'you hear me? You stay away from her! I swear to God ...'

But she didn't turn back, didn't give any signal she had heard. As Maggie Walsh disappeared from view, all the lights in the unit powered down - and Angel was left alone, in the dark - to brood.

* * *

The next morning, Buffy woke up, got dressed and left the dorm before Willow had even opened her eyes. Giles had sounded pretty urgent in the message and she felt a little guilty about not having gone over there, right away … she just _so_ wasn't in the mood for dealing with Spike, right now. Still - the peroxided pest would still be there this morning, and whatever dazzling insight he had managed to come up with would be just as dazzling now she had had some rest. It was probably going to be completely pointless anyway. Spike was totally playing them - because he had nowhere else to go and no way to feed himself now he was … flaccid. She smirked to herself. Still, she didn't know why she didn't just drive a stake through his heart - the chances of him actually being useful seemed pretty non-existent.

As she crossed through the commons area of the campus, she caught sight of Riley, surrounded by a small group of women. She slowed her pace … not sure if she wanted to speak to him or not. The dream she had had last night was weirding her out, giving her the wiggins. She wasn't sure how she felt, right now.

Riley was up a step ladder and was pinning a banner to one corner of the wall, whilst one of the girls held the other end. Once it was tacked in place, he came down the ladder and took a few steps back, admiring his work. 'It looks good,' he told the girls. They thanked him for his help and he nodded and began to clear the step ladder away.

A few more steps and Buffy was beside him, though still a little hesitant. She looked up at the banner: _UC Sunnydale Lesbian Alliance._ She smiled up at him, 'is there something you wanna tell me?' she said. He looked confused and she nodded towards the banner. His expression cleared and he broke out into a big grin. 'Right, yeah - I am a lesbian.'

'Well, it's good that you're so open about it.' She began to walk towards the door and Riley fell in step with her. 'So you know we were talking about having a picnic?' he asked - a look of confusion crossed Buffy's face, but he didn't notice. 'I was thinking, do you ever hang out at Ruggs Field? It's beautiful there. Usually not that crowded either. I thought maybe we could have a little spread, sandwiches, maybe some ants. Could be fun.'

Buffy stopped walking and turned to look at him, her expression still one of bewilderment, 'we were talking about having a picnic?' she asked him. It was his turn to look bewildered - and then that quickly turned to embarrassment. 'Oh - uhm - OK - was that a conversation we actually had or one that I was just practising?'

'Practising?'

'OK, yes,' he admitted, 'I have been known to do a little prep work before our conversations. It's not easy, you know. Talking to you, sometimes, it's like an oral exam.'

'Well, that's just what every girl wants to hear.'

He smiled, bashfully, but stuck to his guns. 'Well you're tricky!'

'Like an exam?'

'I never know how you're going to react to something. That's why I like you so much. You're a mystery.' He chuckled, a little self deprecatingly, as he realised what a doltish thing this was to say. 'Probably every beautiful girl in the world has some jerk telling her she's a mystery, but you really are. There's a lot about you that needs puzzling out.'

Buffy scrunched up her face, as she listened to his words - they hit a little wrinkle in her brain. Riley thought she needed figuring out and - well, she probably did. She was keeping some pretty heavy secrets and that probably showed. But, standing here discussing a possible date, made her think back to her dream from the night before - the dream that told her maybe, just maybe she wasn't ready to move on yet. Riley had been in that dream - he had represented the hidden dangers she must face. Perhaps there were some things about Riley that needed puzzling out too.

He looked at her scrunched up expression - noticing the way her eyes had clouded as she had got lost in her thoughts. 'Did I lose you somewhere?' he asked, smiling.

She snapped back to attention, 'oh …' it was her turn to smile, to try and show nothing was wrong, 'no - I just … I guess I just didn't sleep too well last night. I kinda spaced.'

'Huh - say don'tcha just love a picnic?'

* * *

When Willow woke up, it was to find Buffy long gone. She lay in bed for a long time - secretly glad that her friend was nowhere around to witness her moping and chivy her into getting up. She just lay on her back, staring at the ceiling and missing Oz.

Today was Saturday. It was not so many Saturdays ago that she had woken up warm in her boyfriend's bed, his loving arms wrapped around her. But now he was gone - and she was alone and it seemed like nothing could ever be good again.

After a long time, she dragged herself up. If she didn't hurry, the cafeteria would have stopped serving breakfast foods and right now she fancied pancakes - or maybe waffles. In the absence of love and affection, she would comfort eat her body weight in starch.

But not even the sweetness of the blueberry pancakes made her feel better. Not even when she had poured maple syrup all over them. Not even when she added a sprinkle of sugar to the top. It was a lonely breakfast - and she gazed at the groups of people sat at the other tables; the happy couple holding hands, sat near the door, and her eyes blurred with tears.

It was not so long ago that she had sat in this cafeteria with Oz. Not so long since they had been the happy couple holding hands. When she had been the one who had interrupted mouthfuls of pancakes with syrupy kisses. But now it was just her. Just her and her heartbreak.

She finished up and moved away from the table. She moved as if in a daze, zombie like - not really seeing where she was going, not really caring. She could go up to the chem lab and get some work done. Or go to the library. But her heart wasn't into it, she wasn't in the head space. She could go back to her room but … what was there to do there except stare at the four walls and scream internally for Oz to come back to her.

She drifted across the quad. Her feet were leading her where her heart wanted to be. If all she was going to do was think about Oz, anyway, then she might as well be at his house; surrounded by his things; his scent; his memory. Being in his room - it was the one place where she could still feel him close by. Like, he could never be that far away just as long as she could reach out and touch his stuff. Pick up his t-shirts and smell his scent. His room looked like he had only just left - like he had only stepped out and would be back any minute - and that illusion was a comfort to her. It allowed her to pretend, allowed her to hope. He was coming back. She just had to hang on - and he would came back to her. He had to come back, all his stuff was here.

But, as she arrived at the band's house, she found Devon and the drummer piling boxes into a moving van. Her heart lurched inside her chest and her breath became shallow. This couldn't be… it had to be something else, mean something else.

Devon looked up and saw her, 'hey, Willow,' he said - and she couldn't help but notice that he looked shifty, uncomfortable. And that only made her heart hammer harder. 'Hey - Devon, what's going on?'

* * *

Buffy walked through Giles' front door without knocking, 'hey,' she called out, 'I'm here - what's the big emergency?' She took her bag off and dumped it on the stool beside the breakfast bar, 'hey - if I was tricky to talk to - like an oral exam, you'd tell me, right? Giles?' She turned to look at her watcher - and her mouth fell open in surprise, as she realised he wasn't alone.

Xander and Anya were there with him - which was, OK, nothing too weird there - though it was perhaps a little earlier than normal for the gang to be gathering. But then - and this was where the weird was - Cordelia was there as well. And some little guy that Buffy had never seen before. She ignored him and stared at Cordelia instead. ' _Cordy?_ What?' she turned to Giles, 'what's going on?'

Giles took off his glasses, before speaking, and began to polish them. 'I'm glad you're here, Buffy, at last. We have - well, we find ourselves in rather a situation.' Buffy cast a flustered glance around the room, 'we do?' she asked.

Giles cleared his throat and nodded, 'I think maybe you ought to sit down,' he told her. She inhaled, sharply. 'Sit down? Giles - what's up?'

'Well - Cordelia and her friend,' he indicated the small man, 'arrived here last night. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Buffy, but - they have reason to believe that Angel may be in quite a bit of danger.'

* * *

There was a buzzing in Willow's ears - a sort of hysterical deafness that meant she could not hear, could not concentrate on what Devon was telling her. Oz was gone. He'd sent for his stuff. He'd found somewhere to settle - somewhere else - somewhere not here. And now all his possessions; the hope she had been clinging to; the thread she was hanging by - were being taken away. And she was alone. Left all alone to deal with this herself; this pain - this aching, gaping void where her heart should be. She had nothing to hold on to. He wasn't coming back. He wasn't coming back for her. 'Well,' her voice wobbled and she blinked back her tears, furiously - wanting to wait until she was alone before she cried, 'did he say anything - did he send a note?'

'Just the address and the cash to pay for sending it,' Devon shrugged.

'Nothing? He didn't say anything … about …'

Devon shrugged again, 'sorry, Will, he just called to say he wanted his stuff sending on. He kept it short. You know Oz - the man is not big with the chatter … though maybe he felt guilty about bailing on us right before our gig in Santa Monica. That wasn't cool.'

'Nothing?'

'Nope - that was it.'

She couldn't believe this. She pushed past him and made her way into the house - up to his bedroom. There had to be something - some sign. 'There isn't anything left up there!' she heard Devon call, but she ignored him. This couldn't be happening.

She pushed Oz's bedroom door open. It was dark inside, so she flipped on the light. It was empty. The sheets - the red sheets that had been on the bed that last morning together - had been stripped and the bare mattress now stood on its side. The drawers were pulled out from the chest - and they were empty. His guitar was gone from the corner. His notes and papers had been collected from his desk - which was now as bare as the rest of the room. He'd sent for everything. They'd left her nothing. Oz was gone.

* * *

'What are you telling me?' Buffy struggled to keep her voice calm - though her heart was thumping in her chest and her blood was pounding in her ears, 'tell me again.'

Giles cleaned his glasses once more. When he spoke, his voice was patient, kindly - but weary. 'Angel came to Sunnydale, we believe he got here on Tuesday night - but no one has seen or heard from him since. Cordelia and Doyle are worried that he is missing - in danger.'

'He came on Tuesday?' Her voice was still calm - she wasn't sure how she was doing that. She didn't feel calm. Cordelia nodded, 'uhuh - because of the thingummyjig Doyle saw in his vision.'

'What does that mean?' Maybe her voice wasn't quite as calm as it sounded in her head - maybe there was an edge to it - because she noticed the way everyone else in the room glanced at each other, uneasily, when she spoke. Giles explained the visions to her. She turned to the little guy - and looked him up and down. He looked nervous, under her scrutiny. 'You saw that thing that attacked him?' she asked.

But Doyle shook his head. 'No - uhm - the thing I saw - it was you in danger. Not Angel. Angel came her to protect y' and… well, when we never heard from him and he never came back…'

'We assumed you'd boinked and he'd gone evil,' Cordelia broke in, 'but then we rung Xander and found out that none of you had seen or heard from him either and that's when we realised something had gone wrong.'

'So … Angel came here, to protect me - and now something has taken him.' She repeated the facts - hoping that she could stop the panicked screaming in her head, if she just boiled this down to an easily solvable problem.

' _Duh!_ And we need to find him!' Cordelia was sitting on the staircase, her new friend was squished in next to her. Their arms were tangled up, in the close space, and he was using his thumb to rub her hand, soothingly. Buffy stared at their hands - entranced by the motion - taking in the detail, realising the comfort they were both getting from the gentle pressure. She wondered if they were dating - though the little guy didn't seem like he was Cordy's type. But there was no denying the connection between them - the tender way his thumb moved across Cordelia's skin - going around and around and ...

'Buffy?' Giles sounded worried and she snapped out of her trance, looking up at him. 'Cordy's right - but we're gonna need a battle plan.'

'A battle plan?' Xander asked, 'Buff - what war are we fighting?'

'It's those commandos,' she told them, getting to her feet, 'it's gotta be. They've been taking vampires and demons for months now. They must have got Angel. Grab Spike,' she said to Giles and Xander, 'we're gonna make make him talk - he's gonna tell me every last thing he knows about that facility or he and Mr. Pointy are gonna find themselves getting very friendly.' The two men got up and headed towards the bathroom to get the hostage.

Buffy picked up the phone and called Willow.

* * *

When Willow finally stumbled her way back to her dorm, Buffy was still out. The room was dark and empty and lonely. Like Willow's heart. She just lay down in the dark. She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. She wanted to talk to Buffy and tell her Oz was gone. She wanted to pull the covers over her head and make the whole world go away. She just wanted to stop crying. She wanted to stop feeling this way. The hurt - the pain - it was too much - and it wasn't getting any better. Everyday she missed him more - not less - and now there was nothing left of him to hold close.

She rolled over and saw that the light on the answer machine was blinking. They'd had another message since she'd gone out. She reached out and hit play. Buffy's panicked voice came out from the tape; telling her that Angel was missing and that she was needed. Buffy wanted her to get over to Giles' house asap and help with the rescue mission.

But she was no use like this. When she just wanted to curl up in a ball and fade away. She couldn't be strong - she couldn't be a hero - she couldn't help Buffy when it felt like her insides were ripped out and half of her was missing. If she wasn't going to let Buffy down, then she was going to have to do something. Find a way to make the pain stop - at least long enough to allow her to be helpful. Once Angel was safe, then Willow could grieve again - but, for now, she needed a way to power through.

She pulled herself off the bed and collected up all her candles. She got out a pentagram, a chalice and three bowls. She poured seeds into one bowl, leaves into another and powder into a third. She set up the candles in a circle, on the floor of her room, and lit them one by one. She sat in the middle of the circle and cast the contents of the bowls onto the pentagram.

'Harken well ye elements. I summon thee, now,' she began to chant. 'Control the outside, control within. Land and sea, fire and wind. Out of my passions, a web be spun. From this eve forth, my will be done!' A slight breeze ruffled her hair and the flames of the candles shot up higher. Realising it was working, Willow picked up the chalice and poured its contents out onto the floor. 'So mote it be!' she commanded. There was a loud crack and white lightning forked out across the floor of the room in every direction, up to the edge of the circle. The flames of the candles shot skyward and Willow was knocked flat on her back.

Then everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

Riley made his way through the inspection pit. Maggie and Engelman were working on a HST - dissecting parts of it, the soldier didn't know what for - it wasn't his job to ask. Maggie was speaking into her Dictaphone as she worked, but she looked up and smiled when she saw Riley approaching her. 'Agent Finn, tell me some good news,' she said to him.

'None to report ma'am,' he told her ruefully, 'we swept the area until dawn - no sign of Hostile 17, or his family. They seem to have gone to ground; wherever they are, they're well hidden. But will get them, ma'am - make no mistake about that.'

'I know you will.' She frowned - and went across to her work station, putting down her Dictaphone and picking up her notes. 'Our work on Hostile 20 has changed everything we ever believed about vampire class subterrestrials,' she told Riley. 'For years now The Initiative has worked on the assumption that the vampire is little more than an animal - occasionally capable of working and hunting as a pack, but nothing beyond that. Now we find they are social creatures, that they can form families - perhaps even love in their own way. When we first failed to recover Hostile 17, I began to wonder if he had simply left town. But now I have his brother - and evidence of familial females … and I wonder if these creatures are able to hold some of our own codes of honour - leave no man behind.'

'You think Hostile 20's family will stay in town until they get him back?' Riley asked.

Maggie smiled grimly, 'I believe that may be their plan. But there is no way of getting him back - he cannot get out and their only way in is …'

'If we capture and contain them.'

'Precisely. But perhaps Hostile 17 believes his brother will escape - as he did himself. Which means they will be waiting for him. Hostile 17 and his vampire women are somewhere in this town, Riley. This town is not that big. There are only so many places they can be. Leave no stone unturned, agent - bring them in.'

'We will ma'am - we will resume our patrol tomorrow, squadrons out searching both day and night.' He saluted. She smiled at him again, 'You're a good boy, Riley. Make me proud,' she said. He nodded and walked away, leaving her to her dissection.

* * *

Spike had been hauled out of the bathtub and brought back into the living room, where he sat chained up in the chair. Buffy and the others were gathered around him - they were exhausted, they had been interrogating him all day and all night. He was not being very forthcoming. And there was still no sign of Willow.

'So you saw their faces, but you can't describe them?' Buffy asked - she was exasperated, she was just about ready to stake the peroxided pest - but Giles kept holding her back. Spike was their only chance of finding Angel - or at least of finding the guys who took him - and he knew that. He knew she wasn't going to stake him so long as Angel was in danger - and so he was taking great joy in being a gigantic pain in her ass.

'Well, they were human,' Spike smirked at her, playing it coy. 'Two eyes each, kind of in the middle.'

She looked over at Giles - the unspoken question on her face, but he shook his head. 'Tell us about the lab,' he said.

'It was underground,' Spike told them all - as if he was bored of giving them information. 'I came out through an air vent. I don't know exactly where. I'm done.'

'We don't have time for this!' Buffy cried frustrated. 'Tell me or I'll…'

'Or you'll what?' the vampire scoffed, knowing her threats were empty. She punched him. 'Tell me.' But Spike just smiled that infuriating smirk of his.

'Uh…' Doyle glanced around at everyone, uncomfortable speaking in front of such a large group of people he didn't know, 'y' don't know where ' _exactly',_ but - y' must have an idea of whereabouts you were when you got back to ground level? Must've seen somethin' you recognised.'

Buffy nodded and looked back at Spike, 'he's right - where in Sunnydale were you? Near the docks? Near the centre of town? Out in the desert? The Espresso Pump? where?'

'You know, Buff, we saw those commando guys at the fraternity house on Hallowe'en,' Xander's voice was slow and thoughtful, as if he were putting two and two together and now thought he might finally have an answer. 'And you ran into them again when you were out hunting werewolves.'

'You think they're that local?'

He nodded, 'you've seen them twice in close proximity to the university. Base could be nearby.'

'And Angel was here creeping around in the shadows following you,' Cordelia told Buffy, 'you live at the dorm, he was probably hanging around right under your window, like the regular joe stalker he is, when these army guys leapt out of the bushes and nabbed him.'

'Takes a lot o' skill to creep up on Angel,' Doyle added, nodding his head in agreement with the direction everyone's thinking was going. 'He must have been … distracted to allow 'em to get close enough to take him.'

'And nothing distracts the big guy like staring pensively at what he can't have and brooding about how misunderstood and lonely and tortured he is,' Cordy finished up. 'Brooding and reading - it's the only time you can surprise him.'

'The readin' is a type o' broodin',' Doyle told Cordelia, she looked at him surprised. 'He keeps pictures o' Buffy in between the pages as a bookmark,' he explained.

' _Ew…_ but there you go.'

Buffy turned and looked at Spike expectantly, 'are they right?' she asked, 'did you come up somewhere in the campus?'

'I might have done, I don't remember. It was very traumatic.'

'Hit him again, Buffy,' Anya said, 'I'm tired! I wanna go to bed.'

Buffy looked around at everyone, realising how exhausted they were. 'Look, guys,' she said, 'I appreciate what you're all doing - but if you wanna take a break … I can keep it up with Spike by myself. You guys can get some rest. If we're gonna rescue Angel - I'm gonna need you all, we can't do this if everyone's falling asleep. I need you rested.'

'What about you, Buffy?' Giles asked her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, a concerned and compassionate look on his face. 'You need to rest too.'

'I can't,' She shrugged his hand from her shoulder and pushed her hair back from her face, frustrated and worried. 'As long as Angel's missing - I can't rest. Can't sleep. I …' she stared up at her watcher, 'I have to find him, Giles. Nothing else matters - until he's safe, nothing else matters.'

'Oh Lord, spare me!' Spike, still chained in his chair, groaned and rolled his eyes. 'So the giant fairy has got himself caught by the legion of doom - if Nancy boy's half as clever as he thinks he is, he'll get himself out - I did.' He looked smug.

'After they put a chip in your brain and rendered you a harmless, fluffy puppy,' Buffy said, 'a flaccid, impotent puppy.'

'Hey!'

'You're not anything anymore Spike - a vampire who can't kill?' She laughed angrily, 'you're just a declawed helpless little kitten now. A joke. An embarrassment.'

'Now you listen here, missy…' he started to retort furiously, but she cut him off. 'The only reason I haven't killed you yet is because you're not worth the effort anymore. You're not a threat to anyone.'

'I'll bloody show you!'

'Oh no - help - he's gonna scold me!'

Giles sighed, 'alright, children,' he said, 'let's do try to remain civilised. Tempers are running short - we could all do with some rest, Buffy…'

'No,' she shook her head and stared at the chained up vampire, 'I'm gonna keep going until Captain Chip For Brains tells me something useful.'

Anya groaned, loudly. This was taking too long - she had little patience to start with and now it was well and truly used up. 'Isn't there a shortcut?' she asked, looking around at the group. 'Can't we just … magic the truth out of him?'

'Of course - a truth spell, why didn't I think of that?' Giles shook his head and tutted at his own shortsightedness.

'But we're still waiting on Willow,' Buffy said. Giles checked his watch - it was the early ours of the morning. The sun would be rising soon. 'I'll call her again in the morning,' he promised, 'and I'll look up the ingredients we need from the magic shop,' he glanced around the room. 'Uh - Cordelia? Perhaps you and your friend could go the magic shop for us tomorrow.'

Cordelia and Doyle glanced at each other - and then nodded - they could do that.

'But until we have the ingredients and our witch…' Giles said, Buffy opened her mouth to start protesting but he talked over her - his voice becoming firmer, 'there isn't much we can do. Spike is not going to talk.'

'Damn straight,' Spike muttered, 'how long will I live once I've talked?'

'So it would be better if we all went to get some rest,' Giles said, choosing to ignore the dark utterances of the vampire. 'Buffy - If you'd rather stay here than head all the way back to campus, you are welcome to. We can start the questioning again in a few hours. But for now - everyone - sleep. Buffy, help me with Spike?'

Between them, Buffy and Giles manhandled Spike back to the bathtub - the vampire cursing them out the whole way. The four people left behind in the room all looked at each other. 'Joy - another slumber party with short round,' Xander said, eyeing up the small Irishman - his expression as hostile as it had been the night before.

'Wasn't exactly where I was hopin' to spend the night either, bud,' Doyle replied through gritted teeth.

'I can't believe we can't have sex for another night!' Anya wrapped her arms around Xander's neck as she complained, and went up on tiptoes to kiss him. 'Don't forget about me.'

'I won't.' They kissed.

'Dream about me?'

'I'll try.' They kissed again.

Doyle and Cordelia looked at each other awkwardly, 'so - uhm… I'll see y' tomorrow, Princess, yeah?' he said, rubbing the back of his neck, uncomfortably as Anya and Xander deepened their makeout session.

'Tomorrow - sure thing,' Cordy agreed, watching the kissing couple of the corner of her eye. 'Uh - Anya - you ready?' her voice went up with a note of hope at the end.

With the elongated squelching sound of a sink being unblocked, Anya and Xander pulled apart. Anya was looking disappointed, 'I guess, let's go.'

With a quick wave to Doyle, Cordelia followed her from the apartment. The two men watched them leave. 'Princess,' Xander said, not looking away from the disappearing women, 'where do you get off calling her 'Princess'?'

Doyle raised an eyebrow, but he too didn't take his eyes off the women. 'You were listenin' in? You were kissin' your girlfriend like that but you were listenin' in to us? Huh. Interestin'.'

* * *

Willow sat on her bed as the early morning sunlight streamed in through the window. From the look of things, Buffy - wherever she was- had not returned home last night. Angel was missing - Buffy must be powerfreaking - and Willow knew she needed to get over to Giles' and be supportive sidekick guy. But her 'I will it so' spell had been a major bust, and she was still just regular heartbroken, barely hanging on by a thread guy. Oz was gone. Really gone. She didn't feel any better and she didn't see how she could keep it together long enough to help Buffy.

Picking up a hand mirror she gazed at her pale reflection - all blotchy and tearstained. 'It is my will that my heart be healed,' she said into the mirror, trying to make her voice as commanding as possible. She stared into the mirror, willing herself to feel even the tiniest bit better … but her chest was still a great sucking void where her heart should be.

Maybe she was trying for something too difficult - maybe she needed to work her way up to this, when her pain was so great. She picked up a book and opened it on a random page. 'I will that this book speaks its words to me.' But the book remained silent - and her will remained unfulfilled. Something simpler, perhaps? She picked up a twisted Q-tip and stared at it, focusing every fibre of her determination onto the misshapen plastic and cotton. 'I will that this Q-tip go unbendy…' she couldn't even hold the command in her voice anymore, her tone was uncertain - defeated before she had even begun.

She did not have the power to make her will manifest itself on her surroundings. She was stuck feeling this way - like half of her missing: like she'd been split down the middle and half of her was missing. Oz was gone. And nobody even cared - none of her friends cared what she was going through. Angel was missing and that was all that mattered to any of them … they were too wrapped up in that to see her screaming in agony with every movement. Too self involved to notice that she was drowning in pain. Buffy hadn't even come home last night, hadn't bothered to find out that Oz was really gone - for good. That Willow wasn't coping. Willow wanted to help, she did - that's why she'd done the spell in the first place, to put her own stuff to one side long enough to help - but it hadn't worked, and she couldn't help when she felt like this … and no one was helping her.

On the dresser beside her, the phone began to ring - loud and piercing and shrill, disturbing the quiet heaviness of the room. She reached out and picked it up, holding it listlessly against her ear. 'Hello?' Her voice was heavy and leaden, she didn't care who it was on the other end of the line.

'Oh, Willow - hello,' she heard Giles say, she heard him take his glasses off and begin to clean them. 'We've been trying to get hold of you.'

'I know - I'm sorry, I…'

'You got my message about Angel having gone missing?' he asked her. She nodded slowly, then remembered he couldn't see her. 'Yeah - I tried something last night, to help out but … it was a bust.'

'Well - uh - points for effort. But Anya has had an idea that we use a truth spell to get Spike to talk. I've sent Cordelia and her little seer friend to the magic store for ingredients - but there's not much we can do until you get here to cast the spell.'

'Won't be any use, anyway,' Willow said, her tone was sulky. 'I'm a bad witch. My spells don't work. I tried one last night - a spell to have my will done.'

There was a long moment of quiet down the other end of the line. She was sure she heard the sound of him polishing his glasses once again. 'That's … Willow that's some very dark and powerful forces you are invoking there. What was the purpose behind it? What did you hope to achieve?'

She rolled her eyes, 'Giles!' she cried out. 'Oz is gone! I can't stand feeling this way, every minute of every day hurts. I wanted to make it stop.'

'Yes - um - I can see why you might feel that way but - there are more pressing issues right now. Angel is…'

'I know - he's missing. So is Oz! You don't see, you say you do but you don't see anything…' her eyes flashed a sudden bright blue which died away as quickly as it had come. 'I can't help when I feel like this. I'm no use. I'm off my game. I did that spell so I could put my pain aside for Buffy. Not that anyone is taking the time to do the same for me - but I did it. It didn't work.'

'Well, uhm, maybe under supervision you will have more success…'

'Supervision? I said I'm off my game - not that I'm incompetent.'

'I know - but under the circumstances, maybe not casting spells alone…'

'What - I get punished because I'm in pain?'

'That's not what I'm saying,' Giles told her, 'but we need you here, now. Buffy needs you. We want to be there for you, Willow, we want to help you through this - but right now Angel's life may be in danger and we need you here with the rest of us working the problem. Please.'

Willow nodded - and sighed - and agreed to go. If she was going to be completely alone in her pain then she might as well be alone around other people, trying to do something useful. She hung the phone back up and collected her backpack before leaving the dorm.

...

Back in his apartment, Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them again. His vision was … blurry - all of a sudden, there was an ache behind his eyes. He put the glasses back on his nose but they were no longer making a difference, the world remained fuzzy and out of focus. He frowned and left the kitchen, headed for the bathroom - where Spike was chained up - but he tripped over his feet the whole way.

* * *

'So - uh - y' know where we're headed?' Doyle asked Cordy as they walked down the road headed for the magic shop. Cordy nodded, 'the magic shop's not far from the hardware store, which is just down the road from the coffee shop,' she smiled across at him, 'there isn't a whole lot of town here. Sunnydale's pretty dead... unless you're - you know - _undead_.'

'Right, so - uh,' he glanced at her and then looked away, 'so, you're not sorry to have left it for the big city? You didn't wanna stay?'

'Are you kidding?' she laughed, 'I wanted to get the hell outta here and never come back.' She frowned a little as she thought, 'I mean, I always thought I'd be going to college - that that was how I'd get out of here, I was accepted into some pretty great schools. But…' she shrugged, 'The IRS took all our stuff away and I had to make my own way. I'm never gonna make it as a world famous movie star if a stay in a place like Sunnydale.'

'Right, but…' he tried to make his voice sound as casual as possible, 'but there must be some stuff you miss about the place.'

'Ha!'

'Some o' the people?'

But she just shook her head. 'There's stuff I miss about my old life - the security, being popular, not having to worry constantly about money but … the last year or so at high school was hard for me and I'm glad to be away. There was nothing left for me here.'

'Huh.'

'Why are you asking?' she asked him, sounding curious about his sudden interest in her old life. He stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged. 'What? You're the only one that can ask searchin' and personal questions about a person's life story?' he smiled across at her to show her he was only teasing. 'You get to ask me everything you wanna know about my marital breakdown and I'm not even allowed to ask if you miss your hometown?'

'But your marital breakdown is interesting,' Cordelia told him, she slid her arm through his, and continued walking, holding onto him. He glanced down in surprise - but also felt a sudden lurch of pleasure at the casual intimacy. 'And you're interesting,' she said, 'there's still so much I don't know about you.' The lurch of pleasure turned into a lurch of guilt - there was a lot she didn't know, and it was because he was purposefully keeping it hidden. 'Sunnydale, on the other hand, is not interesting at all,' she told him.

'But you're interestin',' he said to her, smiling, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he didn't deserve Cordelia's friendship or her smiles when he was keeping secrets from her. She smiled back at him, 'Just 'cause the place y' come from is dull doesn't mean I don't wanna know more about who y' were when y' lived here.'

'Oh please - I'm a totally open book.'

He chuckled. 'You are ... _forthright_ in a way that I think is only bested by that Anya girl,' he said, 'blunt to the point of rudeness, on occasion, but you keep stuff hidden to, Cordy, it can be like wrestlin' a tiger just to get to know y', sometimes.'

'Well - what do you wanna know?'

They both looked at each other - there was a moment of tense silence between them, Cordelia could feel her heartbeat speed up, begin to pound in her chest as she waited to hear what it was about her that was a mystery to him. He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking eye contact and breaking the moment along with it. 'You used to - uh you used to date Xander,' he said, awkwardly.

'I did,' she agreed, her voice was unsure as to where this was going.

'I guess 'why?' might be a bit too blunt a question - a bit close to somethin' you might ask... ' He glanced at her, to see if she was offended or angry or uncomfortable with his line of questioning. But she was frowning thoughtfully. 'I guess I thought I saw something in him,' she said, eventually.

'Saw what? Exactly?'

'He …' she frowned even deeper. 'He was funny, and kind and brave - you know when he wasn't being a total dork and a loser. We kept winding up in all these life and death situations which are always sexy. Plus Buffy had made him marginally cooler by hanging with him. I guess I thought a guy who would go out and face the forces of darkness, when he didn't have to - when he had no powers of his own to help him - was the kind of person you should wanna be with. Even if they dressed badly and were poor.'

'I guess that makes sense … you got more layers to you than y' let on, y' know that, darlin'?'

'Duh!'

He laughed again, but then frowned. 'But - uh - he cheated on y', right? With Anya?'

'With Willow,' Cordelia corrected, 'Anya came later. And I guess I learned the lesson that a man can be both brave and a total rat at the same time. I'm much more discerning now.'

'That's good - discernin' is good. So … no more badly dressed, poor men?'

She giggled, 'if I could only fall in love with rich and handsome, well dressed men who were also brave and interesting and would save me from monsters much bigger and stronger than they are, then the world would be a wonderful place. I don't think the universe is ever that giving. You have to decide what matters and what doesn't,' she suddenly glanced down at her feet, shyly, 'you know?'

'Yeah - I know… do you still love Xander?'

'You really don't shy away from asking the tough questions do you!' she said, repeating his own words from a few days ago back to him.

'No - do you?'

'No,' she said, 'why?'

Doyle coughed, looked uncomfortable and then coughed again. 'No reason,' he said, 'but - um - in the spirit o' full disclosure … I'm not so sure he isn't still in love with you.'

'He isn't still in love with me,' she said, firmly, 'he was never in love with me. He would never have cheated if he was.'

'You really think things are ever that simple, darlin'?'

She nodded resolutely, 'yes,' she said, 'some things. You don't cheat on people you love. And you don't lie to them either.'

'Right,' Doyle said, feeling that same lurch of guilt from before. He didn't speak again all the way to the magic shop. He needed to tell her - soon. He couldn't keep lying, keep secrets. If he wanted anything more than just a casual friendship with Cordy, then she deserved to know the truth. If only the thought of telling her wasn't more terrifying than the prospect of leaping out of an airplane without a parachute.

* * *

Willow arrived at Giles' to find only Xander in the living room. 'Where is everyone?' she asked. She had rushed over here, her heart bleeding the whole way, and no one was even around. 'Cordy and her badly dressed leprechaun friend have gone to the magic shop to get the ingredients for the spell,' Xander said, 'G-man and the Buffster are in the bathroom - wrestling with the undead English Patient.' He looked her over - noticing how pale and wan she looked, 'are you OK?' he asked, 'how come it took you so long to get here?'

'Nothing just …' she sat down and struggled to keep her bottom lip from wobbling, 'just dealing with some 'me' stuff.'

'Not really the time for 'me stuff', Will,' he said to her, though his voice was kind and concerned, 'Angel's missing, Buffy's going postal, half of L.A are out looking for dead boy - we're in a situation.' From the bathroom came the sound of Spike cussing and Buffy yelling - then something which sounded a lot like a British vampire being punched in the nose. Willow and Xander glanced in the direction of the noise - but then looked away. Buffy and Spike fighting - same old same old.

'Right so I'll turn my frown upside down.' Willow said, sounding unimpressed with the emergency of their situation.

'Willow … did something happen? You seem ...' he trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

'Oz happened.'

'Honey…' she saw that look of pity mixed with exasperation in his eyes- that look she saw from everyone.

'He sent for his stuff,' she said - and this time she couldn't stop her lip from trembling, her eyes welled up with tears. 'Everything's gone - his clothes, his books, his guitar. Oz is gone. He's really gone.'

'Did he say anything did he…?'

She shook her head, and began to cry in earnest. 'Devon said he just sent for his stuff, so I guess he's settling down somewhere - not here. And I ...' she took a great gasping breath and then realised she didn't know what she wanted to say. Xander reached out and put his hand on her knee, squeezing comfortingly. There was more cursing and yelling from the bathroom. And the sound of another thump. He chose to ignore it. 'Willow, I know this seems like the end of the world right now but…'

'But what?' she asked between her wheezes and sobs, 'one day I'll get over it?'

'You just need to give it time.'

'And then what? I meet someone else? Someone not Oz - and we do this whole thing over again - and I end up back where I am right now? Is this all there is?'

'Hey,' he said, softly, 'not every relationship is doomed.'

'Tell me one good relationship,' she cried, 'just one example.' He opened his mouth to try and give an answer but she cut him off. 'Angel left Buffy,' she pointed out, 'Miss Calendar _died_ and now Giles has no one. Buffy's parents split up. Me and Oz, you and Cordy. Name a good relationship.'

He looked awkward, 'me and Anya are in a real good place right now.'

'Anya!,' she sounded scornful, 'You've been together with demon girl for five minutes. It means nothing. And let's look at the rest of your bio - praying mantis lady, Inca mummy girl … face it Xander - you're a demon magnet!' Again her eyes flashed that strange iridescent blue, just for a moment.

'Hey - I'm only trying to help,' Xander said to her, sounding hurt.

...

Behind them, Giles came stumbling out of the hallway and then fumbled his way into the kitchen. They paid him no attention as he took off his glasses and administered some eye drops.

'Giles! I accidentally staked Spike, that's OK, right?' they heard Buffy yell out to her watcher. Giles shook his head. 'I swear if those two don't kill each other soon I'm going to give them a helping hand,' he muttered to himself - and put his glasses back on.

...

'No one can help,' Willow said, 'there's nothing anyone can do. You want me to take the time and go through with the healing - but you don't wanna hear about it.'

'It's not that we don't wanna hear about it,' Xander protested, 'we all care, we do. We're here for you. But…'

'But right now something bigger and more important is going on,' she said, sarcastically.

'Well, yeah,' Xander sounded awkward. 'Angel is missing and Buffy needs to get Spike to talk to find out where he is.'

'She spent all night trying to get Spike to talk,' Willow said, 'and she's in there with him now.'

'Well yeah - it's all that matters to her right now.'

'Well, fine! If Spike's all that matters to Buffy then maybe she should just marry him!'

* * *

Eyedrops in, Giles blundered back down the hall, back towards the bathroom. He didn't understand it at all - he could barely make out his hand in front of his face, he had to walk with his arms stretched out in front of him and none of it was helping. It was as if the whole world was covered in a thick haze he had to fight his way through. 'If you two could just stop fighting for a minute…' he called towards the slayer and her hostage.

He felt his way towards the door and stumbled through - then came to a stop. Because his vision was so blurry, it took him a moment to work out what he was looking at, what those fuzzy, out of focus shapes were - what they signified.

Spike was - somehow - out of the bath, unchained. Buffy was sat on the edge of the tub and the vampire was kneeling in front of her. They were holding hands. 'This is so sudden,' Buffy was saying, 'I don't know what to say,'

'Say yes,' Spike said to her, his voice serious. His eyes shining earnestly, 'and make me the happiest man alive.'

'Oh Spike! Of course it's yes!' They both got to their feet and Buffy threw her arms around Spikes neck and they began to kiss, passionately. When they pulled apart, Buffy noticed Giles standing in the doorway. 'Giles!' she squealed with excitement, waving her left hand at him and revealing a large skull shaped ring on her third finger, 'you'll never believe what's just happened!'


End file.
